The Walking Dead in Faerun: Vol 2
by Syndrake
Summary: This is volume two of the series set in the world of Forgotten Realms. After failing to find answers at the wizard tower, the party is forced on the road again. Their struggle for survival takes them to the Goldenfields in search of safe haven. When the roads are overrun by the dead, the party find refuge on the farm of an intriguing patriarch of a family harbouring dark secrets.
1. What Lies Ahead

**Click here for Volume 1:** s/11610547/1/The-Walking-Dead-in-Faerun

 _Mogrin_

 _I guess I am losing hope that you receive these. But there is always that chance, is there not? That slim chance. I suppose everything depends on slim chances now._

 _I tried to do everything right, to keep people from harm._

 _Our party is of smaller numbers now. We lost yet another two days ago. It was her choice. She too took a slim chance, and now I pray she is well, living a better life far away from here._

 _Silverymoon was dead end. I met the wizard who lived in the tower. A dwarf from Thay sent to help the people there. Or so we thought. It turned out he was merely an apprentice and the wizard had perished._

 _Before we left, I learned a chilling truth. A truth that haunts me every waking moment. And that i_

 _However I feel is of little consequence. What matters as of writing this is we're moving forth. The Sword Coast is no more. There is nothing left for us here. We now ride for Berdusk. In hopes to find the Harpers._

 _We face a long, hard journey, perhaps more taxing than any of us can fathom. But surely it cannot be harder than our journey's been so far. Can it?_

 _125 miles is what lies in wait for us. And I'm trying hard to not lose faith. I cannot. I dare not, for the sake of the others and my family. There's just a few of us now. It is imperative we stick together, fight for each other, be willing to lay down our lives for each other if such a need arises. It's the only chance any of us have._

 _Be careful out there, my friend. I hope you and Duhane are well. Stay off the road, keep moving, keep your eyes open. I fear I can offer no advice beyond that. All I can say is just be safe._

 _And who knows? Perhaps we'll see you at Berdusk Hall someday._

 _Rillick_

"Everyone, let us away!"

Dall's voice snapped Rillick back to consciousness. He tied the message to Dio's leg, launched him in the air and hurried back to the group. With Lorelai's help he pulled himself into Highlander's saddle as everyone but Dall, Dar and Shaan climbed into the ox cart.

Dall spurred the oxen forward. Rillick, with his wife's arms wrapped around his waste and his son nestled in front, drove Highlander on.

His thoughts drifted to Shaan. He couldn't shake the feeling something was off with him. Ever since they escaped the wizard tower, he'd been acting a little... distant.

It had been two days since they left Silverymoon. Rillick kept his head down, concentrating on keeping his horse on track, as he swayed gently side to side in the saddle. He looked up and to the right, past Cralo and her daughter Salpha on their own horse Holdfast, to just make out the treeline of a forest in the distance. Ahead of him was the bulky rear of the wagon, creaking and clacking as it trundled along the unkempt road beneath them, pulled along by beastmaster Dall's oxen, Ara and Eevee. Though he could not see beyond the ox cart, he knew the half-orc Dar lead the charge, riding atop Harley, his pet dire wolf, 'companion', he corrected himself. He found the sight quite amusing, but he dared not reveal it.

Though everyone's spirits were as high as they could ever be, No one felt the need to make conversation. When they did, it was planning or taking inventory. Survival was on everyone's mind. Nothing else mattered.

Rillick heard a quiet chuckle as Lorelai rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I was thinking of our trip to the Cloudpeaks with Chorrol." She said.

He laughed softly as the memory came back to him.

"I don't remember that." Chorrol said as he strained to recall.

"No doubt." Said Lorelai, stroking his hair. "You were but a babe. We never made it past the Hamlar Hills."

"You became ill." Rillick explained. "I never imagined a baby could throw up so much."

They both laughed as Chorrol scrunched his face in disgust.

Lorelai sighed fondly. "The healer in Nashkel said you'd live. We then simply took the next caravan home."

"That's disappointing." Chorrol mumbled.

Lorelai smiled. "No. T'was was a good journey."

"The best." Said Rillick, grateful for the distraction.

Chorrol looked up behind him. "Can we go there? The Cloudpeaks? I'd like to."

Before Rillick could respond, Salpha called from the horse beside him. "I would too. Can we go?"

Indeed, he too would love to see the Cloudpeaks properly, but given the situation, it may never be possible.

"We would never go without you or your mother." He said to her finally. "You have my word."

It was a somewhat unsatisfactory compromise.

The constant sharp scraping echoing inside the cart began to grate on Anderea. She casually watched as Shaan ran the small square stone along the edge of the sword he held. He flipped it over and worked the other side.

"Does that not become tedious?" she asked.

Shaan shrugged and held up the sword to review his handiwork.

"The trick to sharpening a blade is to keep it consistent along the entirety of both edges. I could do the same to yours, show you how."

She gave him an annoyed look. That wasn't exactly the response she asked, but she handed it to him anyway.

"Ah, yes. This is fine craftsmanship." Shaan said as he thumbed the shortsword's edge.

"It was a gift from my father." She said. "He gave it to me before Amee and I started our adventure. He said adventurers must always be armed for there are dangerous monsters afoot."

Shaan hummed in approval. "Wise man, your father. So, look," he turned the topic back on the sword, "it is of good steel, though a little dull." He handed the sword to her and held up the whetstone. "See? You need one of these."

"Oh, Seven Hells!"

Before the lesson could properly get underway, Dall's anguish caught their concern and the cart was pulled to a stop. Shaan exited the cart and marched up to Dall up on top of the vehicle. He could instantly see what had him bothered.

Before them was what must've been the remains of a village. Shattered windows of mildewed houses and debris littered the streets. The worst of it was a mountain of armoured corpses and animal carcasses of horses that lay in their path like a barricade. Shaan could hardly imagine what had happened to cause such a grim scene.

Dar and Harley emerged from around the pile.

"See a way through?" Dall called once they were close enough.

Dar shook his head.

"Perhaps we can skirt around it?" Gelnen suggested on the other side of Dall.

"The cart is not designed for off-road travel." said Dall. "And with Ara's leg as it is, it won't work." He thought for a time before continuing. "We must go over."

He jumped down and walked over to the door. "I need everyone to get out of the cart." He ordered. "And take as much as you can carry. I need this vessel to be as light as possible."

By the time everyone exited the cart, arms wrapped around an assortment of items, Rillick, Cralo and the others joined the group and dismounted, guiding the horses by the reins. They watched nervously as Dall lead the oxen carefully over the fleshy rotting hill.

The cart rocked back and forth, threatening to topple over at any second during it's climb. Both oxen stumbled and staggered over the uneven ground. Rillick released the breath he didn't realise he held as the wagon rolled over its peak. whether by Dall's incredible show of skill, sheer luck, or perhaps both, the wagon stayed upright. Rillick made his way towards the carcasses and aided Highlander around it through the narrow gap between it and the wall of the building. Cralo followed suit with Holdfast, along with the rest of the party.

Just as the gap widened, he heard one of the oxen cry out. A harrowing cry of pain which broke his heart. He could instantly guess what just occurred.

He reached the other side and rushed over to behind the wagon. He rounded it and saw Dall knelt over the male ox, its leg lifted off the ground. The rest stopped by him shortly after.

Dall looked up, eyes burning with anger. "I said it! Did I not say it?" he shouted. "A thousand bloody times, he's not fit for travel!"

Shaan stepped forward. "Is he okay?" he asked. Though it was clear his concern was not for Ara's well-being.

Dall looked as if he was about to punch him. Thankfully he restrained himself. "His leg is badly hurt and not had a chance to heal. We have no more bandages to spare." He set to work on releasing the harness that tied them to the wagon.

"If we cannot find bandages here," Dar called as he made his way to the nearest house, "there's a number of items to find."

Ty-Varaz nodded in agreement. "I can look roond fer a water source fer tha beasts."

"For us, too." Cralo added.

Gelnen chimed in too. "And food."

As the party scattered in all directions to begin scavenging, Lorelai scanned her surroundings. Everything was shrouded in unsettling silence.

"This place is a graveyard." She said quietly at Rillick's side. "I don't know how to feel about this."

Her words fell on deaf ears. Ty-Varaz jumped out of the wagon, having returned the stuff back inside, and was already pulling the oxen down the street to a still fountain in the distance. Dall followed with the horses and they crowded around it drinking what was left in the basin.

"A tad unconventional," he sighed, "but it'll suffice. Fortunately, it's clean enough."

Gelnen hurried up to him and held up a small satchel. Dall opened it and rifled through and pulled out a salve, a small glass vial of liquid and a bundle of dry herbs. He looked at Ara, thought a moment then snatched the satchel from Gelnen's hands.

"Here, you do it." He said, shoving the ingredients onto his chest. "Apply the salve and press the herbs against it using this cloth. Then feed him the remedy."

Gelnen's head spun as he attempted to process his instructions, all with the confusion of the sudden responsibility quite literally thrust upon him.

"Learn something." Dall added before he clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

He slowly turned to face Ara, his wounded leg lifted off the ground. He knelt down and set to work unwrapping the dirty bandage. When Ara shoved him backward onto the ground, he knew this would not be easy.

Lorelai stopped outside a small apparel shop.

"Winter Winds." She muttered to Cralo beside her as she looked up at the dirty sign. "Interesting name."

Cralo either didn't hear her, or didn't care to respond as she walked in without saying a word. A little while later, Lorelai ducked inside herself to see Cralo holding an attractive looking gown against herself. Hearing Lorelai's approach, she looked behind her and smiled meekly.

"Ned never let me wear nice things as this." She sighed, before setting the dress down and picking up a small pile of cloaks beside it. "We will need these for the winter."

Lorelai walked over to her and grabbed a couple of her own. She could tell Cralo was much happier now with Eddard gone, but it's as if she won't allow herself to feel nothing but pain. If only there was something she could say or do for her. All she could think to do was relieve as much hardship from her as she can.

As the two exited the shop, Lorelai spied her son and Salpha carrying a basket of dried food nearby.

"Chorrol?" she called.

He looked up.

"Always within my gaze, okay?"

Anderea strolled through the empty town. Like a hail of arrows, the night of the attack and the sensation of being pulled into the abyss assaulted her mind. She felt her chest tighten and her throat go dry. She needed to do something, a way to focus on the present and keep the past at bay. But with Dall keeping watch on top of the cart, Gelnen tending to the wounded ox, Lorelai, Cralo and Ty-Varaz carting clothes and other useful supplies, There wasn't much else that needed doing. If she wasn't to be of use right now, she thought, she may as well learn to be in the future.

She crept back to the ox cart and climbed inside. Dropping herself onto the bench at the wall, she found Shaan's whetstone. Shaking the painful memories aside, she picked up her shortsword and set to work, but immediately reeled at the sharp ringing caused by the stone on steel.

"Okay then."

...

"Come on. I'm trying to save your life!"

There had been no amount of hardships for Gelnen during his task, but with the wounded leg finally covered, correctly, getting the ox to drink the remedy proved to be the most difficult of all. Every time it was even close to his mouth, Ara would turn away or shove him back.

He finally became aware of a continuous noise to his left. When he looked up, Shaan emerged from a mansion on a hill, sheathed in sweat, and pushed a wooden barrel which tumbled and rolled down the path and stopped at a pile of additional barrels. When he noticed the elf was watching him, Shaan bounded down the hill with a grin.

"Gelnen!" he called, moderately breathless. "Were we short on water?"

Gelnen looked at him curiously. Indeed they were, barely enough for one person, let alone a party. He watched as Shaan heaved a barrel up over his head and pulled the cork out the side. Fresh water poured from the opening, drenching him fully as he guzzled as much of the liquid as it flowed over his head.

Gelnen widened his eyes in shock, then laughed excitedly. "Hey, save me some!"

Relieved, though a tad annoyed that an entire barrel was just needlessly wasted, from his vantage point at the top of the ox cart, Dall averted his gaze from Gelnen and Shaan. He heard a ringing of steel, less muffled than Anderea's attempted sharpening. looking down he saw Rillick looking in the opposite direction, his longsword ready with a look of warning. When he followed his gaze, he saw it. A single walker heading their way. But as he approached, another walker appeared around the barrier of corpses, then another, then another. Soon the ground was a river of undead bodies.

"By Helm." He gasped.

Rillick ran to his wife's side and urgently pushed her into the tavern.

"Lorelai, inside." He hissed. "Chorrol, get in now. Get down."

Lorelai was quick to stay her protests the moment she saw what had him afeared. They all ducked down behind the bar. Cralo huddled against her, a hand pressed against her mouth as the moans from outside grew louder and more numerous.

Rillick nervously tightened his grip on his sword, preying none would enter the tavern. Chorrol held tight on his arm. He heard Cralo squeal in horror. Though muffled under Lorelai's hand, it still made him flinch. His gaze fell beyond the window opposite him, and he himself had to silence his own cries.

Barely visible, lying face down in the tall yellow grass, was Salpha.

Gelnen felt a hand forcefully grab his arm.

"Come. Quickly." Shaan whispered.

"What?"

Looking behind him promptly answered any questions he had, and he quickly rushed to aid Shaan in pulling the beasts from the fountain to a large storehouse nearby.

Anderea stopped what she was doing the moment she heard the familiar, awful noise. Thousands of snarling, decrepit voices of long dried throats. She threw herself to the floor, lying flat underneath the table she sat by. She stared at the door across the room. It was slightly ajar.

It swung open.

Ty-Varaz threw himself through the doorway of a two-story house as the hoard neared him and scrambled backwards until his back was against the door. Breathing heavily, he slowly rose and peeked out the nearby window.

The walkers outside moved like a thick fog. He continued to stare, dumbfounded as to its size, until a walker among the crowd stopped in its tracks, turned its head and directly locked eyes with him.

"Drak!"

Utter panic took control of his body. He was carried straight up towards the flight of stairs to the second floor. In his haste to get away, he did not notice the wood had rotted, and he barely acknowledged as it crumbled beneath him until he landed painfully, sprawled on the floor surrounded by dust and decayed wood.

As he dragged himself to his feet, he felt something wet on his arm. He looked down and his face twisted in terror to see blood gushing uncontrollably from a large gash that covered the length of his arm.

He looked over at the doorway. Several walkers shambled up the walkway, attracted to the sound. He looked back at an open window on the opposite wall, but in his weakened state, he knew he wouldn't be able to escape through there.

Clutching his arm, which did nothing to stem the tide, he ran limping into the adjoining room. A kitchen of sorts with a table and chair in the centre. A corpse lay on the chair face down on the table, a fork lodged it its head.

The growls grew closer. No doubt they were following the blood trail, but Ty-Varaz could barely move any more. The world spun, his legs gave way, and he collapsed on the floor. Amongst the blurry haze he saw the creature move towards him for the kill. He stared blankly at the ceiling, awaiting death.

Through his blurry vision, he saw a hand appear behind the encroaching rotting human and a knife thrust into the side of its head. When it collapsed he could just make out who it was. It was Dar! He lifted a finger to his lips.

Dar grabbed the dead again corpse and heaved it on top of him, then dropped to the ground, pulling the dead body on the table over himself.

There they both lay, as more walkers entered the house.

Anderea dove behind the stack of crates at the back of the ox cart. Weather she was too late or not she could not say. Her trembling hands gripped her shortsword as the footsteps drew nearer. She held her breath as the footsteps stopped. She could feel a presence just above her. Something wet and slimy dripped onto her shoulder. She dared not look up.

A hand grabbed her by the hair and dragged her over the crates. She cried out as fear overwhelmed her. She flailed her sword wildly until it stopped, impaled in the walker's neck. She tried to back away, but it lurched forward until it pinned her against the wall. Through tears of terror she desperately sawed her shortsword back and forth through the creature's neck, while poring all her strength into keeping its decrepit, gnashing teeth from moving any closer.

It seemed like an age, but finally, her sword burst out the back of its neck. She grabbed the creature by the hair and threw it across the room in a cry of frightened rage. Its body slumped in a heap on the floor. She followed soon after, hugging her knees, eyes fixed on the head across from her, its mouth opening and closing, staring at her with dark, cloudy eyes.

The growls grew quieter as time passed. Inside the large warehouse, Gelnen and Shaan did their best to keep the beasts calm. Harley remained in front of them, pacing back and forth quietly growling. At one time Shaan objected to having such a monster in the camp. What a fool he was. Now he welcomed the security with open arms. Especially at this moment.

Eventually, Gelnen and Shaan crept towards the door and cautiously peered outside. The air was still and no walkers were in sight.

Soon after, the rest slowly emerged from their hiding spots. Anderea, covered in blood and visibly shaking, Dar with the unconscious dwarf hoisted over his shoulder and Rillick from the tavern to gather everyone together.

After a quick headcount, Rillick was relieved everyone had survived. Just as he was planning his next move, there was a shriek from inside the tavern. Lorelai ran out, Cralo crying in her arms.

"Lorelai. Those two walkers are after my child!" She wailed.

"What happened?" Rillick asked urgently.

"It's Salpha." Lorelai responded. "Stragglers from the horde found her. She ran towards the river."

Without a moment's hesitation, Rillick sprinted off after her.

Salpha ran as fast as she could along the river, heart racing, breaths heavy. She could hear the footsteps nearby. They were fast. Faster than other ones. Ahead of her was a large bridge. She tried to run faster, but a hand grabbed her around the waist. She screamed, but she was quickly silenced by a hand around her mouth.

"You must be quiet now. Lest you bring more than just two. Come. Come."

Upon hearing Rillick's voice, Salpha quickly calmed. He lifted her onto his shoulder and rushed towards the bridge. He lowered her down against the base. The growls grew nearer.

"Salpha, you must do exactly as I say." He said with urgency. "More will be coming. Hide here and I will draw them away from you."

She grabbed his arm. "No, don't leave me."

He knelt to her level and held her shoulders. "Listen to me. They do not tire. I do. I can only fight so many at a time. I wouldn't be able to protect you. This is how we both prevail."

The fear in the girl's eyes almost broke Rillick. But he knew he had to be vigilant. He rose to his feet and drew his sword. "If I do not return, follow the river back to town. Keep the water flowing towards you and the sun on your left shoulder."

He ran off and Salpha shrunk to the ground hugging her knees. She heard Rillick shout and the growls veered off course. Then silence.

She had no clue how long she remained under the bridge. It felt like hours. She listened intently for Rillick's return, but heard naught but the whistle of the gentle breeze through the grass. She couldn't sit still any longer. Her body screamed for her to move. Something drew her from her hiding spot.

"Keep the sun on your left shoulder." The words circled through her mind.

Carefully, she rose to her feet, looked up at the sun, placed her right hand onto her left shoulder and begun walking alongside the river, ensuring the water flowed towards her.

...

"You are certain this is the spot?"

"I left her right here." Rillick told Dar. "I drew the walkers in that direction."

Dar directed Harley to the bridge's base, holding on to one of his spikes. The dire wolf began noisily snuffling at the stonework.

"She was gone by the time I returned." Rillick continued as he paced. "I assumed she took flight and ran back to the party. I told her to follow the river upstream and keep the sun on her left shoulder."

Dar nodded in acknowledgement. "You, elf," he looked up, "might you step to one side? You're mudding up the trail."

Gelnen, somewhat embarrassed, stepped to the side as the two headed towards him.

"Assuming she knows her left from her right." Said Shaan as he approached.

"Shaan, she understood me plenty." Rillick snapped.

The current situation had Rillick on edge, he knew this. But he couldn't help it. Something not lost on Shaan either.

"The girl's tired and scared, friend. She had a close encounter with two walkers. One must wonder how much of what you said reached her ear."

Rillick had to stop himself from shouting at him. He had a point, and regardless of how he felt, it couldn't be ignored if he wanted to find her. He stayed quiet.

"Got clear prints here!" Dar called, his hand gently grazing the ground. "She did as you said, headed back to the village. Let's spread out, make our way back."

"Let's go." Shaan ordered. "She couldn't have gone far." He then gripped Rillick's shoulder. "Hey, we will find her. She'll tire and hide among the grass somewhere."

Gelnen, Shaan and Rillick followed Dar, following the tracks invisible to all but the half-orc, with Harley in the lead, his busy nose to the ground. The sun edged close to the horizon and the moon was barely visible in the sky. To add yet more complications, it would be dark soon. Eventually, Dar motioned everyone to halt and knelt down by a patch of flattened grass.

"She was doing fine 'til just here." He explained. "All she had to do was continue on her path. She veered off that way." He pointed to the direction of the nearby treeline of the forest.

"Why would she do that?" Gelnen pondered.

"Perhaps she saw something that spooked her, made her flee."

"A walker?"

Dar carefully examined the ground. "I see no footprints. Just hers."

"So what will we do?" Shaan asked. "All of us press on?"

Rillick shook his head. "No, it would behoove us for you and Gelnen to return to the village.". "People may begin to panic. Let them know we're on her trail, doing all in our power. But most of all, keep everybody calm."

Shaan looked at the ground, contemplating, then nodded. "I'll keep them busy scavenging the houses. Think up a few other tasks. I'll keep them occupied."

Gelnen and Shaan broke off and headed back to the village. Rillick turned to Dar, who motioned his head to follow and continued along the trail towards the forest.

Some time later, back at the village, Dall added the finishing touches of the ox's harness and tested its security. Cralo approached him none too happy.

"Why are we preparing the oxen now?" she asked.

Dall sighed. He dreaded this moment.

"The remedy seems to be working wonders for Ara," he explained, choosing his words wisely, "so we can leave once everyone is ready."

Cralo frowned in warning. "We are not going anywhere until my daughter returns."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was not good at moments like this. He was thankful when Lorelai walked over.

She put her hands on Cralo's shoulders. "Hey, that goes without saying."

Upon overhearing the discussion, Shaan joined the three, followed by Gelnen and Anderea.

"Look, Rillick and Dar," he said, "they're on top of it, okay? Only a matter of time."

"Not soon enough if I have anything to say of it." Said Anderea as she tossed a full waterskin to Shaan and Gelnen. "I'm still thinking of that horde that passed us, or whatever you call it."

"Aye, what was that?" Gelnen shook his head. "All of them marching together like that."

Shaan looked to the ground in thought. "A walker horde. That sounds about right. We've seen it. It's akin to the night our camp was attacked, only much larger numbers."

He looked up. They've been scavenging all day, and probably not much left anymore. He had to think of a way to keep everyone busy. Then he thought of something.

"Come now, people." He announced. "I think it would be a good idea to clear the corpses from the entrance, in case another group comes this way."

Meanwhile, Harley lead Rillick and Dar a fair way into the forest. What would cause her to flee this far in Rillick couldn't imagine. Perhaps he would find out. He looked up. Ideally soon if the setting sun was any indication.

He focused his gaze on the forest floor, and his heart sank.

"Tracks are gone." He said.

Dar lowered to his knees and touched the ground. "They're faint, but not gone. She came through here."

"How can you tell?" Rillick asked, bewildered. "I see nothing. Dirt, grass."

"Do you want a lesson in tracking or to find the girl and leave that blighted village?"

Rillick fell silent and they continued deeper into the forest.

As Dar pressed on, he found himself deep in thought, wondering just what Rillick had expected to happen. He was a fool to leave her alone, a child no less.

Momentum pushed Highlander forward as the rope bound to him yanked the rotting top half of a horse from the pile. This in turn caused many corpses to tumble to the ground. Chorrol, who was coaxing Highlander by his reins, stopped when something caught his eye. He adjusted the cloth covering his mouth and nose and crept cautiously over to one of the soldiers. A necklace hung around his neck over his metal armor and full helmet. He carefully unfastened it from around his neck and examined it, holding it up to the sun. It seemed to be glowing.

"Shaan!" he called excitedly as he ran over to him. "Shaan. Take a look. It's a necklace."

Shaan was busily shoving various supplies into a pack he found in one of the tailor shops. "That's nice, child." He muttered, not looking from his task. "Go give it to Dall."

Chorrol didn't back away. His enthusiasm made Shaan flinch. He so wanted to turn and lift him into his arms, but he knew he was disallowed from that privilege.

"I think it's magic." He exclaimed, then he gasped with glee. "Gods, what if it can Turn Undead!"

To make matters worse, Lorelai walked up to them to see what the commotion was about.

"Be careful." She said. "If it's enchanted, it may be cursed. Don't put it on."

"But I found it." Chorrol protested.

"What did I just say?"

"Shaan." He desperately looked to him. "Shaan, please tell her I can keep it."

He stood up. Every second he was in this family's presence his anger grew. His love for both of them warped into bitter resentment.

"Go give it to Dall." He snapped. "Go, now."

Chorrol looked as if he was going to burst into tears. Not that he himself fared better. He scowled and left, head hung low. Shaan turned to meet Lorelai's awful glare.

"What was that?" she asked coldly.

"What was what?"

She stepped towards him. "The way you spoke to him just now. You crushed him."

He turned his back and continued packing.

"I cannot believe you." Her voice rose. "You're serving me the cold shoulder?"

Shaan spun around to face her. "Is this not your wish?" he spat. "Was it not you who said stay away from him and you?"

"Have you forgotten what happened at Silverymoon?" her voice was quiet, but venomous. "Your little tirade in the library slip your mind? When you tried..." she trailed off as the memory surfaced.

"When I tried to what?" he goaded. "What do you think that was?"

"I think it is quite clear what that was."

"A mistake. One I admit to. I have a few mistakes behind me, as do you."

"That we can both agree upon." Lorelai's tone changed into a gentle murmur. "But, Shaan, we need to end this."

He picked up his pack and sighed. "What do you think this is for? I'm leaving."

Lorelai stepped back with a confused frown. "You're leaving?"

"As in gone for good. I am disbanding myself from the party. I will quietly slip away the first chance I get."

He passed Lorelai, who was stunned silent, then stopped and looked back. "Take care of Highlander, will you?"

He joined the others. "Alright, lets get back to work!"

Rillick froze at the sound of footsteps crunching on the underbrush. He looked over to Dar, who had done the same and motioned his wolf to stay.

Keeping low to the ground, they inched towards the sound until a walker came into view. A wood elf in hide armor, one of the natives no doubt, Rillick thought. Dar made a sign with his hand and he nodded and circled around to its flank as Dar moved the other way.

Once Rillick was directly opposite the half-orc he walked over to it and whistled. The creature turned around to face the the sound. Rillick cautiously hovered his hand over his shortsword. It burst into a menacing roar but was quickly silenced as a bolt embedded into its head from behind.

Rillick knelt by the walker's side as Dar called out Salpha's name. He carefully parted its mouth and dug his finger along the inside of its teeth.

"What are you searching for?" Dar asked as he walked towards him.

He pointed to the creature's hand with his eyes. "Skin under the fingernails. It fed recently. There's flesh caught in his teeth."

"Aye," Dar said grimly, "what kind of flesh?"

Rillick drew his shortsword. "Only one way to know for certain."

Dar nodded in agreement and helped strip the armor off the body.

As Rillick prepared himself, Dar grabbed his arm. "Let me. That isn't the right tool."

He pulled a large hunting knife from a sheath in his boot and knelt by the corpse. Taking a deep breath, he poised the knife point-down over its torso and plunged it deep into the flesh with a sickening crunch.

As Dar proceeded to tear the body's stomach from its dwelling, Rillick began to feel the contents of his own begin to stir. He swallowed and tried his best to keep his composure. Finally, Dar tore through the stomach and scooped out a helping with the flat of his knife.

"Bastard got himself a badger." he said after some close examination.

Just like that, a huge weight lifted and the lingering dread dissipated. Though, he would've preferred a cleaner method.

"At least we know." Rillick sighed.

It seemed Dar felt the same. He flicked the meat off his knife in disgust. "Aye, At least we know."

The air was still, all was quiet but the bustling of bodies as the party prepared for their departure. Cralo stared blankly into the setting sun over the forest. She felt movement close to her. A hand rested on her shoulder.

"It's late." She said, unmoving. "It will be dark shortly."

"They'll find her." Anderea said quietly, and turned back to the party. She walked over to Dall as he and Gelnen worked on securing the oxen to the wagon.

"Where's my sword?" she asked.

Dall didn't respond.

"You have no right to take it."

Gelnen took the opportunity to flee.

He still stayed silent, avoiding her gaze. Finally he spoke, his tone awkward and hesitant.

"You don't need it just now, do you?"

"My father gave it to me. It is mine."

"I... I can hold on to you."

Her blood began to boil, and was about to continue when Shaan approached them.

"All is well I hope?"

"No," Anderea snapped, "I want my sword back."

"I don't think that's good idea right now." Said Dall, more to Shaan than her.

"Why not?" Shaan asked.

"I'm not comfortable with it."

Anderea glared in disbelief and looked at Shaan expectantly. She looked as if she was about to hit something. He knew he had to quell the situation quickly but Dall did have a point.

"To be frank," Shaan said carefully, "the less weapons floating around, the better."

She looked down to the side of him. "Will you unequip your own swords?"

He chuckled. "No." The nine hells couldn't part him from his swords.

"Neither of them? Not even one?"

"First of all, they're sheathed. We have many weapons but not the means to stow them safely on one's person."

"What are you talking about?" Anderea snapped. "I have a sheath."

"Yes, but not anything to tie it to, and the ropes we have, they have uses elsewhere." He stopped to observe Anderea. She was angry but level-headed enough he was confident to continue.

"Furthermore, I am trained in the use of my blades. That is what the rest of you lot truly need. Proper training. But until such a time graces us, and we find some way of keeping them on us safely, I think it best if Dall keeps them in our inventory."

Anderea glowered, but said not a word. She turned and stormed off. Shaan breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Dall.

"Mind telling me what that was about?"

"By Torm, they're back!" cried Gelnen before Dall had the chance to answer.

Harley emerged from between two houses, followed by Rillick and Dar, clothes covered in dirt and blood. Cralo ran up to them, but when she reached them, her face quickly fell.

"You didn't find her?"

Rillick's face was ashen. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light."

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own to spend the night alone in the forest." She said desperately.

"Out in the forest after dark is hopeless." Dar stepped forward. "We'd be tripping over ourselves. More folk'll get lost."

"But she's a child!" Cralo cried. "She can't be out on her own. You didn't find anything?"

"I know this is hard, but I implore you to not panic." Said Rillick gently. "We know she was out there."

"We tracked her for a time." Said Dar.

"We must make this an organised effort. Dar knows the forest better than anybody. I have asked him to oversee this."

Rillick realised she was staring at Dar. More specifically what was on his open sleeveless tunic. Her eyes were wide with horror.

"Is that... blood?"

Rillick and Dar shared a glance.

"We felled a walker." Rillick replied.

"Walker?"

"There was no sign it was ever near Salpha." He quickly added.

"How can you know that?"

Rillick turned to Anderea as she approached Cralo.

"We cut the whoreson open." Dar answered grimly. "Just to be certain."

Cralo backed into the wall of one of the houses, her breathing became ragged as she fought back her tears. Lorelai sidled up and stroked her arm.

She looked up at Rillick, her face showed a mixture of anger and sorrow. "How you just leave her out there to begin with? How could you just leave her?"

He looked at the ground. Her words wounded him. "those two walkers pursued us, and I couldn't be sure there would be more. I had to lead them away. It was her best chance."

"Sounds to me he didn't have a choice, Cralo." Shaan joined them after quietly listening.

"How is she to find her way back on her own?" she cried. "She's but a child. A child."

"It was my only option." Rillick said with desperation. "The only choice I could make." He wasn't trying to convince Cralo anymore.

"I'm sure nobody doubts that." Said Shaan, placing a supporting hand on his shoulder.

Rillick gave him a look of thanks, though it did little to numb his guilt. Shaan failed to count him among them.

"My little girl, left in the forest." She sobbed on Lorelai's shoulder. Anderea walked up and put her arm around her and they guided her back to the cart.

As everyone departed to turn in, Dar walked by Rillick's side.

"Rillick, a word?"

"We will find her." He said, staring ahead with determination. "I will not rest until we do."

"No doubt, but..." He took a breath. "I may have lied about the tracks."

He looked up. "How so?"

Dar's brow was furrowed. "I lost the trail, but it didn't go cold. It just seemed to abruptly stop. One moment the tracks were clear as day, the next, nothing."

They walked along in uncomfortable silence. The look on Dar's face was of worry and confusion. It softened when they reached the ox-cart.

"Ah, but I'm sure I just couldn't see them in the dark." He said confidently. "When we find them, we'll be on her trail again, no doubt."

He headed off towards one of the abandoned houses, and Rillick ducked into the cart.

...

Next morning, Rillick stood beside Shaan as the rest of the party stood before them. An assortment of daggers and knives lay at their feet.

"Everybody take one." Rillick ordered.

As everyone shuffled forward to acquire their weapon, Anderea stared at hers with contempt.

"These are much too short." She said.

"They are the best tool for one who is untrained." Shaan explained. "A sword needs proper balance and technique. It could do sufficient damage in an inexperienced hand. Dar, Rillick and I are carrying."

"The swords are not the kind of damage I'm worried about." Anderea snapped.

Shaan looked at the ground and shook his head in bewildered amusement. He drew his longsword and handed it to Anderea. As she took it from his hands he drew his shortsword.

"Strike me." He said as he moved into a casual fighting stance, his sword in front pointed down.

Anderea tested the weight of the sword in her hand. It was heavy, but she was able to wield it. He looked up at him, anger brewing. He thought her unworthy to wield a blade. She would show him she's more than capable. She would relish wiping that smug look on his face.

She swung the heavy sword at his shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, Shaan blocked her blow and swung it in an arc and it flew from Anderea's grip.

"You can't wield a sword properly." He said calm but stern. "Deal with it."

After the shock wore off, Anderea glared defiantly, her face turning bright red.

Dar cleared his throat, and everyone's attention turned to him.

"The plan is to follow the river east through the forest. Chances are she'll be by the river or at the base of one of the adjoining mountains. They're her only landmarks."

"Stay quiet and stay vigilant." Rillick added. "Keep space between you but stay within sight of each other."

As the party dispersed to prepare, Rillick walked up to Dall leaning by the ox cart.

"Dall, keep the beasts fed and watered." He said. "We must have them ready to move."

"We won't tarry here a moment longer than we must." He gripped Rillick's shoulder. "Best of luck out there. Bring Salpha back."

He returned with a single nod. "And keep an eye on Chorrol while you're gone."

Chorrol walked up to them with Lorelai close behind.

"I'm going with you." He said. "You need people, yes? To cover as much ground as possible."

Almost without thinking, Rillick was about to tell him to stay, but he held his tongue when his eyes met Chorrol's. The determined gaze, he was not ready to back down without a fight.

So he thought, would bringing him along be so dire? He looked up at Lorelai.

"Your choice." She laughed, holding up her hands. "I can't always be the bad guy."

Slightly disappointed, he turned to Dall, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, he has the lot of you to watch him. I'd say he's in good hands."

Rillick stood silent, in the middle of all three anxiously awaiting his decision. At last he sighed in resignation.

"Okay, okay. But always in our gaze, no exceptions."

Dall gave Chorrol a wink and everyone parted. He turned his attention back to the cart.

A little while later, Anderea moved towards him. He sighed, and prepared himself. With barely a glance, she headed for the cart's door but Dall stepped in her way and barred her access.

"Anderea, I beg of you." He pleaded. "Do not put me into this position."

"I'm not going anywhere without my sword." She said defiantly.

Her voice had an edge to it, as though she was barely keeping a level head. Dall found it more than a little unnerving, but he couldn't back down.

"I'm doing this for you."

"No, Dall, you're doing this for you." She snapped. "You need to cease. What do you think will happen? I plunge it into my chest the moment it's in my hands?"

"I know you're angry at me." Dall said, as soothing as possible. "That much is clear. But if I had not done what I did, you'd be dead."

"And what is that to you? You barely know me."

"I know Amee's death devastated you-"

"Keep her out of this!" she spat. "This is not about Amee. It is about us. If I were to decide I had nothing left to live for, who in the seven hells are you to tell me otherwise? To force my hand like that?"

"I saved your life-"

"No, Dall. I saved yours." Her voice rose, but remained a private volume. "You forced that upon me. I didn't want your blood on my hands and that is the only reason I left the tower."

Dall stared, stunned into silence. For a moment, he felt a slight hint of guilt.

"What did you expect?" she continued. "I would have some sort of epiphany? Some life-affirming catharsis?"

Her breaths heaved angrily as she awaited his reply.

"Perhaps a little gratitude at the very least..."

"Gratitude?" she repeated as though it was the most absurd thing she ever heard. "I wanted to die my own way, not torn apart by drooling abominations. That was my choice. You took that away from me, Dall."

"But..."

"But you know better? All I ever wanted after sister died was to flee this endless horrific nightmare we live each day. I wasn't hurting anyone. You took my choice away, Dall, and you expect gratitude?"

Another uncomfortable silence blanketed between them.

"I don't know what to say." Dall said quietly.

"I am not your little girl," she hissed, "nor am I your wife. And I am certainly not your problem. That is all that needs saying."

She turned and stormed off, leaving Dall alone and winded.

A little while later, Rillick and those accompanying him reached the forest without incident. They marched quickly and quietly in one of his favorite formations, which took the shape of a T. Dar took the lead, with he and Gelnen on either side. Cralo was directly behind them, followed by Lorelai and Chorrol directly behind her, and Shaan covered their flank wielding his greatsword.

Chorrol examined the shimmering amulet around his neck, turning it over in his hands. He slowed his steps until Shaan was near him.

"Shaan, look. Father said I could wear it." He held it up to him. "I don't know what it can do, but I think it might be able to Turn Undead. If we come across a walker we can..."

"Quiet." Shaan snapped. "We're looking for Salpha, not trouble. You need to focus on the task."

The words cut Shaan deep as much as he knew it did Chorrol. As he watched him hurry back to Lorelai, he felt a familiar anger rise within him.

Lorelai held Chorrol close when he reached her.

"We must keep up, lest we break formation."

"I am."

"Are you well?"

"I think Shaan's angry at me. Did I do something wrong?"

Lorelai sighed. It was certainly difficult, but she could barely imagine what Chorrol was going through, but she knew this was for the best. She gave him a supportive rub on the back.

"No, my child, I promise you. He's worried about Salpha is all. Come."

Dar drove everyone to a halt when Harley growled with warning. A short distance ahead of them was a triangular tent made of leaves and twigs. No doubt one of the natives' many outposts. He and Rillick moved forward to Harley's side and crouched down.

"She could be in there." Dar said quietly. "Could be a mess of things in there. Harley, stay."

As Dar crept towards the dwelling, with crossbow raised, Rillick motioned for everyone else to stay low. He turned and watched carefully as the half-orc neared the hut, readying himself for danger.

Once reached the hut, Dar dropped his crossbow and drew the hunting knife from his boot. He smelt death emanating from inside and feared the worst. He carefully peered through the gaps in the wall. It was dark inside, but no movement. He turned and gave Rillick a shrug, who made his way over to him and drew his shortsword. Shaan followed close behind.

"Cralo." Whispered Rillick.

She hurried up to them.

"Call out softly. If she's in there, yours is the first voice she ought to hear."

She nodded and swallowed.

"Salpha, are in there?" she called softly.

No answer.

"It's mama. Salpha. We're all here, little one."

Still nothing.

Dar poised his dagger downwards and slowly reached for the large leaf acting as a tarp. He, Rillick and Shaan braced themselves and he tore it open.

The horrible stench hit the three like a battering ram. Both Shaan and Rillick reeled back and coughed. Dar pressed forward into the dwelling.

The inside was unassuming. A few containers for storage and some furniture, but in the centre was a wood elf slumped in a chair. His skin peeled and flesh melted and fat maggots weaved in and out of his head. A throwing dagger was lodged into his eye, his hand draped over it.

As much he dreaded it, Dar knew he couldn't pass such a useful item. He inched closer, the overwhelming stench almost formed an impassable barrier. He lifted the arm over the dagger with his knife and slowly eased it out of his eye.

From the look of it, the elf plunged the dagger into his own head. An unusual method of suicide, Dar pondered as he wiped off the slime, one would usually strike the heart, or wrists. He shrugged in resignation, it mattered not, and sheathed it loosely in his belt at the back. He made his way back outside, thankful for the fresh air. Everyone turned to him, eyes questioning.

"Not her." He said plainly.

"What's in there?" Anderea asked.

"Some native what offed himself."

Before anyone could reply, a sound rung in the air around them. Rillick's heart thundered as everyone exchanged hopeful glances. It was distant, but unmistakable.

The bells of a chapel.

A short while later, the group emerged from the forest into open fields.

"What direction?" Shaan asked Rillick.

"Over yonder. I'm quite certain."

"Certainly hard to tell out here."

"If we heard them," said Cralo, "surely Salpha heard too."

"Someone is ringing those bells," Gelnen offered, "perhaps calling others?"

"Or signalling they found her." Anderea added.

Rillick picked up the pace, encouraging others to do the same. "She could be ringing them herself. Come."

Back at the village, Dall stood tall on the top of the ox cart, keeping watch as he tried hard to quell his worry.

"Ain't ye tha one ta care fer these oxen? Ye bein' tha beastmaster 'n'all."

He looked down. Ty-Varaz gazed up at him.

"I tended to Ara's leg yesterday." He said casually. "It's healed rather nicely, he and Eevee are fit for travel anytime."

Ty-Varaz was taken aback. "Eh? Was'all this fuss 'n' bother aboot it? Pure fancy?"

"Aye, that's one word for it. Another might be pantomime. Just for show." He looked at him with warning. "No one else needs to know this."

The dwarf shook his head. "Pantomime."

Dall looked up again. "If the others know he's fit to press on, they'll want to press on."

"So ya dinnae think they'll find Salpha, that it?"

He shrugged. "I am merely guarding against the worst. Sooner or later, if she's not found, folk'll start making conclusions. I want to hold off on the needs-of-the-many, needs-of-the-few arguments as long as I'm able."

Ty-Varaz stood silent for a time, considering.

"Quite tha wound on tha poor ox thar." He said at last.

Dall smiled. "Quite so."

...

Once the chapel was in sight, Rillick wasted no time. He broke into a sprint towards it. The others ran behind but had a hard time keeping up.

Rillick almost threw himself at the door to knock it down, but he refrained himself despite the desperation that drove him. He drew his shortsword and positioned himself at the door. When he caught up, Shaan instantly moved up to his side. They nodded once to signal they were ready, and with a shaking hand, Rillick shoved the door open.

Inside were three figures crouched in front of a shrine with an icon of the Grain Goddess Chuntea, a stocky woman with gnomish features in a flowing white and green dress with floral patterns. By her feet were bundles of wheat long since rotted away.

The figures slowly turned to reveal their melting flesh and peeled mouths and snarled. Walkers.

Rillick's heart sank. This couldn't be it. He strode forward and struck the walker baring at him down the middle of its head. His blade stopped halfway.

He looked over to either side of him. Shaan carefully shoved his greatsword through the head of the other walker, and Dar's wolf leapt on the third and ripped it to shreds.

After wrenching his sword from the creature's head, he tore across the building. Perhaps she was hiding, he decided. But his frantic search found no one. As everyone else entered the chapel, he could feel Cralo's eyes bearing into him. He dared not look at her.

"SALPHA!" he yelled.

No answer.

He had been level headed thus far, but his calm had begun to wane. Hearing the bells gave him what he needed to keep going.

He looked around and noticed Dar was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the chimes of the bell covered the chapel. Rillick's eyes fell on a door to the side and ran towards it.

The door lead to a set of stairs leading up. He bounded up them, skipping several at a time in his ascent. Cralo followed close behind. When he reached the top, Dar stood nearby, his face a mixture of anger and disgust.

Rillick immediately saw what the half-orc saw, and he promptly mirrored his anguish. A walker was with them, struggling to reach Dar, but held back by a rope around its neck. One that was attached to the bell itself.

Dar stepped forward. "Well, we know what rung the bell."

He drew his hunting knife from his boot and drove it into its head, more aggressively than needed.

The three stared forlornly at the creature in silence as it slumped over as the bell rung until it grew still.

"I think I might go back downstairs." Said Cralo. It was clear in her voice she was barely holding it together.

Dar escorted her downstairs, leaving Rillick alone with the withered cobwebs.

He was so certain. But he had forgotten the creatures weren't undead, and could freely enter places of worship. He had been rash, jumping at the first possible sign. Images flashed in his mind of that fateful day he left Salpha under the bridge. Alternate scenarios flickered past him like pages of a book. But, though his heart was heavy, he knew he could not give up. Even if all hope was lost, he could not falter.

He had to find her. It was his duty.

Anderea collapsed by the wall outside of the chapel. The fresh air and quiet was welcome. The small breeze weaved through her shoddily tied back hair.

It was clear the girl was gone. She feared the worst from the start, but she was now all but convinced. It would behoove everyone to head back to the village and move on, but she knew no one would do so, fixed as they are to that guard captain. Ever since he showed up, everything had become worse each time. And now a little girl was lost, because he...

"Are you really leaving?"

"Do you not think it best for us all?"

Her thoughts were interrupted by two people talking quietly amongst themselves. She crept closer for a better listen.

"I think it is." Said Lorelai quietly as to not be heard. "What drove your decision?"

"Must back away." Shaan answered. "I'm trying to be good, Lorelai, even if you cannot see. None of this was intended. I hope you know this." He stopped and studied her expression, but it was unreadable. He sighed. "It matters not. As long as I say it."

"You'll just disappear? You won't even tell Rillick?"

"He'll only try to stop me." He smiled an empty smile. He knew that man well. "No, that is on you. Tell him what you will. You are his wife, after all."

"And Chorrol?" she asked. "We dragged him into this."

He looked at the earth. "I love Chorrol."

Lorelai hugged herself as a burst of strong wind raced past, pulling at her tattered dress.

"He thinks you hate him."

Her words struck Shaan like a dagger to the heart.

"I'm trying to put some difference." He said, little aggressively and raising his voice a small amount. "I'm trying to make this easier. This is not easy on any of us, least of all me." He looked away and forced himself to calm down. "I'm the one who loses you."

For the first time, Lorelai saw the pain in his eyes. Rillick's return struck a blow to him, and the night at the tower was something he deeply regretted. But she also saw something else, something... unhinged.

She turned and headed for the chapel without another word.

Shaan made a sound between a sigh and a growl. The time has come at last. He adjusted his pack and took one last look at the chapel in silent farewell.

That's when he saw Anderea emerge from around the corner.

...

"Great Mother, forgive me. I do not deserve mercy from any of you."

Cralo was kneeling in front of the shrine when Lorelai entered the chapel. Her scratching voice broke her heart. She wanted to walk up and comfort her, but new it wasn't wise to interrupt. Instead she simply lowered to her knees and listened.

"I preyed to Helm, God of Guardians, for safe passage from Neverwinter and He provided. I preyed for Eddard to be punished for laying his hands upon me... and for looking at his own daughter with whatever sickness growing within him. To put a stop to it."

She paused, and Lorelai found herself thinking up a few prayers of her own. Mostly to Cralo, and to Salpha's safe return.

"I preyed to Lathander, Commander of Creativity, to give me a chance to raise her right, help her not make my own mistakes. She is so fearful. So young in her way. She hasn't a chance."

Cralo paused for a long time. Lorelai almost thought she was finished, and stood up, but she continued at last.

"Preying for Eddard's death was wrong. I thought I was addressing Tyr, Lord of Justice. But I called upon Bhaal, Lord of Murder, I know this. But I beg of you, Great Mother, do not let this be my punishment. Let her be safe, alive and safe. Please. Punish me however you wish, but show mercy to her."

Cralo rose to her feet, and staggered towards Lorelai, who wrapped her arms around her.

...

"I'm coming with you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Shaan muttered in response.

"I'm not dense and I'm certainly not deaf. Look, I don't know the story."

"There is no story." He said with trying patience.

"I care not. Do not confuse me with someone who does." He turned away, but Anderea ran around and intercepted him. "All I care about is being gone from this place, as far away as I can. Like you."

He laughed mockingly. "So what, will we sail off into the sunset together? Hold hands."

"I do not ask for companionship, Shaan." She spat. "I simply want a chance to start anew someplace else. You've seen this group lately, no? I have. I see two people who don't belong. Between the two of us, we make an excellent third wheel."

"So, saying we do, we just run off." He said, a little patronising. "What's in it for me bar the extra arse I have to cover."

"The chance to do something for someone else." She replied. "And a door swings both ways. Place a sword in my hand, I'll cover your arse, too..."

She trailed off when she noticed Rillick emerge from inside the chapel.

"Think it over." She whispered, and briskly walked away.

Rillick stopped at the treeline, deep in thought. His cloak shifted slightly in the gentle breeze. Shaan joined his side.

"We have to move, friend. These people are spent." He declared. "There are so many hours of daylight left and we still have a long way back."

"I can't stop yet."

Shaan sighed. He should've known. "We still have a lot of forest to cover. We'll search further on the way back."

Rillick turned to face him, a determined glare, one he knew all too well.

"She would have heard the bell." He said. "She could be nearby."

"She could be a lot of things."

Rillick turned back to the front. "I cannot go back. Her being out here is my fault."

Shaan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Wonderful. Now they have you doubting yourself?"

He turned again. "And what of you? You doubt me?"

There was a pause. It was all Rillick needed.

"Listen," Shaan stammered, "we can assign all manner of blame-"

"This means something, finding her." he cut him off. "It would be the blessing we need. We must not give up."

It was no use, Shaan knew this. When Rillick set himself to something, he was immovable, especially if he felt responsible. He simply clapped him on the shoulder and left to gather the party.

When everyone was rounded up, he spoke, his greatsword slung over his shoulder.

"You lot are to follow the river back. Dar, you're in charge. Rillick and I will remain, search this area another hour or so just to be sure."

"Your splitting us up?" Dar asked. "You're sure?"

"Aye, we'll catch up to you."

Everyone parted, some more reluctantly than others.

"I want to stay, too."

Shaan and Rillick turned to the voice. It was Chorrol.

"I'm her friend."

They looked at each other, undecided. Then Lorelai stepped forward.

"Just be careful, okay?"

With that, it was decided.

Chorrol nodded, determined. "I will."

"When did you start growing up?" she laughed fondly, and kissed the top of his head.

Anderea watched out the corner of her eye as Lorelai pulled Rillick into an embrace, and notice a scowl emerge across Shaan's face.

"I will join you in haste." Said Rillick when they pulled away, and pulled out his shortsword. "Take this. Remember how to use it?"

She shook her head. "I will not take your sword and leave you defenceless."

"I still have my longsword." He returned.

"You need both. One for open areas, another for narrow places and indoors, as you told me."

He shrugged. "I'll just avoid narrow places and indoors."

"We have a dire wolf. I'm sure we'll be fine."

Dar approached them. "To be perfectly honest, an extra sword wouldn't be a bad idea."

Lorelai looked down and sighed in frustration. She snatched the sword from Rillick and pointed the hilt at him.

"If you get yourself killed, don't blame me." She warned.

Rillick chuckled, amused. "I shall endeavour to remember that."

All too soon, Dar and the rest disappeared into the forest. Rillick turned to Shaan.

"A moment, if I may?"

"Of course." Shaan said, and lead Chorrol away.

Rillick looked to the chapel, steeled his heart, and made his way towards it.

He stopped at the base of Chuntea's shrine. He nervously fidgeted with the ends of his cloak and cleared his throat.

"I do not know if you and your kind look look at me with, what, prey tell? Sadness? Scorn? Pity?Or perhaps you're all arguing around your table, or whatever you use, trying to decide amongst yourselves. Maybe you're just indifferent."

He caught himself fiddling with a tear in the fabric and shoved it away so it favoured one side of his body.

"I guess you already know I'm not the most devout man. I guess I chose to put my faith elsewhere. My family, mostly. My friends. My job."

He took a breath.

"You see, we, I, could use a little something to help us keep going. Some kind of... acknowledgement. Some indication I'm doing the right thing."

He let out a long breath as tears pushed against his eyes.

"You don't know how hard it is down here. Well, maybe Tyr. And, what was his name? Ilmater?."

Rillick was about to continue, but he realised he couldn't think of anything else to say. So he turned around, adjusted his cloak, and started for the door.

Suddenly, he was hit with a rush of emotion, and he spun back around and stormed back up to Her.

"Look, I don't need all the answers." He shot. "A little nudge. A sign. Any sign will do."

He turned again and headed out.

"Get what you needed?" Shaan asked at the stairs.

"I suppose we'll find out." He said. It remained to be seen if his words would be a help, a hindrance, or simply a waste of time.

As the day drew closer to its end, the light that entered the forest grew smaller. All manner of insects filled the area around Lorelai with their mutterings. She absent-mindedly thumbed the edge of Rillick's shortsword, deep in thought.

"So this is it?" Cralo asked, jolting her into consciousness. "This is the plan?"

"The plan, it seems, is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups." Dar grumbled, ahead of them.

"Carrying tiny daggers and pointy sticks." Anderea added, then looked over at Lorelai with an accusing glare. "I see you have a proper sword."

Lorelai glared back. She was at her wits' end.

"Why, you want it?" she stomped over to her and held the sword's hilt out to her. "Here, take it."

Though she tried to keep her gaze, Anderea could not help but act surprised.

"I am tired of the looks you're giving me. All of you."

She gingerly took the sword from her hand. Lorelai retrieved the waterskin hanging from her pack and sat down on a nearby log. Cralo sat down some distance beside her and she turned to her.

"Cralo, I can barely imagine what you're going through." She continued sternly. "And I would do anything to stop it. But you have to stop blaming Rillick. It is in your eyes every time you look at him."

She looked back to the front to regard everyone. "When Salpha ran he did not hesitate. Not for a moment. I know not if any of us would have gone after her the way he did or bore the hard decisions he had to make or if anyone would have done it differently." She let her words sink in. Everyone fell silent. "Anyone?"

Silence still. "You lot look at him and blame him for not being perfect." She continued. "If you can do this without stopping him, by all means, do so. No one is stopping you." She punctuated her point by taking a swig from her waterskin.

The party stared at her, stunned, but she was too angry to acknowledge them. Eventually, an extended hand slowly caught her attention. It was Anderea with her husbands sword held out to her.

"We should carry on." She said, guilt visible on her face.

Indeed, Lorelai noticed everyone had that look on them. Some hung their heads in shame, others stared at the horizon in realisation. She was content.

She gratefully took the sword from Anderea and stood. They marched onward, Lorelai's words weighing on their minds.

...

Rillick, Shaan and Chorrol froze at the sound of a twig snapping. Rillick slowly pulled out his longsword and glanced at Shaan, lifting his greatsword into a ready stance. Rillick gestured for Shaan to move and they crept closer to the sound's vicinity.

They reached a small clearing, and Rillick's eyes bulged as they lay on the creator of the sound. A deer walked slowly across, her fur a light brown with a white stripe down along her gentle face. She glanced around cautiously before dipping its head and began grazing.

Such a beautiful sight warmed Rillick's heart, but when he turned and saw Chorrol, all the hardships and horrors melted away. The child's face was lit with wonder and amazement, the widest grin stretched across it. It had been so long since Rillick saw, or felt, any form of happiness, he almost thought it extinct.

"A shame we have no bow and arrows." Shaan whispered beside him.

Rillick snapped his head towards him and glared. "Shaan, please."

He looked forward again and realised Chorrol had begun to move towards the deer. He inched closer, ever so slowly. She looked up and directly at him, but made no move to flee, only eyeing him cautiously. He moved slower still, his hand outstretched.

Rillick couldn't help but smile at the sight. He felt his weathered heart start to warm. Even Shaan's features softened as they watched the scene play out.

Chorrol was almost within arm's reach when the deer's ear twitched. She suddenly bounded away and out of sight as something hurtled out of the underbrush. Chorrol took a few uneasy steps back.

Just like that, the darkness returned. Time seemed to draw to a crawl. Chorrol stood motionless, swaying against the breeze. Then, he turned around slowly.

An arrow protruded out of his chest. A circle of red surrounded the point of entry.

He stared at Rillick, then his eyes rolled into his head and fell backwards onto the earth.


	2. Cure Critical Wounds

Balder's Gate was alive with the buzz of voices as the people went about their lives under the late afternoon sun. Lorelai strolled quietly down the street, head bowed low, her mind a mess of emotion. The only respite was the beginning of a poem that had formed, something about dealing with loss with the planes as a motif.

"Aye, I know that look." Came a gruff voice below her. "Will ye say what ales ya so?"

Turie, her friend, and the mother of one in Chorrol's circle. She was a dwarf a few decades older than her. She wore a simple, yet stylish, green and white dress, much better than the brown dress Lorelai was wearing, or so she thought. Her hair was much like hers, except she wore it loosely where Lorelai had the fronts of hers wrapped around her head in a braided half-up.

"We had a fight this morning." She said, keeping her gaze forward. "It got ugly, hurtful."

Turie hissed through her teeth. "Ah, I'm sorry, me dear. Men can be such dogs at times."

She stretched her mouth into the shape of a smile. "If we are to be honest, he wasn't the dog."

"Oh. Aye."

Lorelai rubbed her temple as her performance that morning bore new, shameful information.

"He was trying so hard to be reasonable. It merely fanned the flames all the more." She continued, shaking her head. "Gods above, I sometimes wish he would yell at me. Tell me I'm being an arse, if that is what I'm being. Instead, he's just so..."

She let out a long breath. As she spoke, she heard just how ridiculous she sounded.

"Ya needn't blame yerself." Said Turie softly.

Lorelai laughed. "No? You cannot tell me being mad at your husband because he doesn't yell at you is even close to rational."

They fell silent and continued along the path. Not that she could blame Turie. What does one say in this instance. The school came into view before them.

"'Tis one problem I don't have with Toram." Said Turie as she smiled fondly.

"Yet you love him still?"

She shrugged. "Aye, might as well. Go the full stretch, as it were."

Lorelai smiled dully. "I admire your pragmatism."

As they stopped a fair distance from the entrance of the school, Turie looked up at her.

"Ya still love Rillick."

She rubbed her shoulder nervously. "I've been asking that a lot, and I think the answer is yes. Though I am trying to remember how that works." She looked at the sky in thought. "Perhaps the only real problem we have is we got married so young. It's..."

Before she could continue, she heard the sound of hooves drawing closer to her. When she turned around, she saw Shaan atop Highlander heading straight towards her, accompanied by two other guards. Her face turned pale.

"A moment." She said to Turie, and didn't even wait for a reply and ran towards him.

As she approached, Shaan dismounted and walked slowly up to her.

They stood apart from each other, silent, for no words were needed. Shaan's grim expression was enough.

"Is he alive?" her voice was shaken.

"He was taken to the temple."

Another silence. After so many incidents, Lorelai had started to become more relaxed with Rillick's dangerous job. She began to trust in his abilities and his caution. Now, the very day she begun to learn to let her guard down...

"How?" she asked simply, though truthfully she want the answer. She didn't know what else to say.

It took some time, but Shaan took a deep breath. "We got tidings of an orc raiding party attacking some trade caravans, but there was a third. A goblin." He looked down in a mixture of anger and shame. "Somebody blundered. I blundered. I just... the grass was long, I did not see it in time." He looked straight at her with conviction. "Lorelai, it was my fault."

Lorelai returned his determined gaze with her own. "I don't believe that."

Shaan stopped looking at her and focused on something behind her. She turned around to see Chorrol striding merrily towards them. He raised his hand in a wave, which she responded in kind.

The boy's joyous nature broke Lorelai's heart. "What do I say?" she asked, more to herself. "How do I tell my son his father's been cut down by monsters?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"You need not do it alone." Said Shaan quietly.

Lorelai rose her arm and gave his armoured gauntlet a grateful squeeze. She gathered all the courage she could muster and walked up to him.

Shaan watched quietly as Lorelai knelt down to Chorrol's level. He could not hear what was said, but he saw tears begin to run down the boy's face, and Lorelai pulled him to her.

There and then, Shaan made a promise. To Rillick. His best friend and brother-in-arms, that he would protect Lorelai and Chorrol with his dying breath, whatever the cost.

...

The wind whipped past Rillick's face as he tore across the open field of tall golden grass. All he heard was his own ragged breathing. Chorrol lay limp in his arms, an arrow protruding from his chest. His arms ached as he hauled the full weight of his son.

He heard shouting behind him as Shaan aggressively dragged a large human by the arm. He sported hides and a bow and a quiver of arrows, most of which had tumbled out as he was dragged along the ground.

"Move, you bastard!" Shaan yelled.

Rillick stopped and turned, eyes blazing in fury.

"How far!" he shouted, a mix of fear and anger. "How far!"

"'nother 'alf moile, that way!" he said, gasping for air. "Herrasil, talk to Herrasil. 'e'll 'elp ya boy."

Rillick once again broke into a sprint. He ran even faster than before, or as much as the dead weight he carried would allow. He rounded a small hill and saw a large, two-story house with a thatched roof.

On the porch by the front door, Magrie looked up from the beginnings of her woven basket. Across the field in the distance, she saw a figure rushing towards them. Though it moved in an awkward fashion, it was too fast to be one of the creatures. As it got closer, she noticed it seemed to be carrying something.

Her eyes shot wide in shock. She leapt up and ran for the door.

"Father!"

Rillick cried out in frustration and heaved Chorrol back upwards. As the house drew closer, he fought desperately through his waning strength. He noticed someone run into the house. Shortly after, an old man in a dirty white jacket emerged strode into view, flanked by four others, a woman of silver years and three much younger.

He was near them now. All he could hope was they were decent people.

"Was he bit?" asked the old man.

"Shot by your man."

"Ortus?" exclaimed one of the people behind him.

"He said find Herrasil. Are you he?" he pleaded. "Help me. Help my boy."

"Get him inside." He ordered without a moment's hesitation.

Rillick stood stunned. He was not used to such instant generosity.

"Inside!" Herrasil snapped, shaking Rillick out of his state.

As he and the others stormed inside, Herrasil began barking orders.

"Pitra, I need my full kit. Magrie, willow bark, hyperricum. Grab everything. Towels, sheets, leeches. In here."

Rillick followed him through the house to a bedroom. He tore off the bed's covers and Rillick lowered Chorrol onto the bed and nearly sighed in exctasy from the release of such a burden.

Herrasil placed the palm of his hand of the arrow's shaft and looked up in concentration.

"It hit bone." He said at last.

He stood over Chorrol's lifeless body, shaking. Beyond him, Herrasil dug through a drawer and pulled out a long strip of wire.

"Take this, make a slipknot." He said, handing it to him.

"Is he alive?" asked Rillick, his eyes glued to Chorrol.

"Slipknot. Now."

He set to work, though his quivering hands made it difficult. As he did, the others ran into the room with an assortment of tools and strong smelling plants. The elder woman, Pitra, handed him a knife and he cut the clothes around the arrow.

"Is he alive?" he asked again. He felt helpless.

Pitra stepped forward and lay a gentle hand on Rillick's shoulder. "Step back please."

"Magrie, leeches."

The girl, Magrie, lay a hand on Rillick's other shoulder. "We need some space."

Rillick stood, paralysed, by his son's side, unable to move or speak. Never had he felt so helpless in his life. He was gently pulled back by the two women.

"Your name?" Herrasil asked.

"Rillick. I'm... I'm Rillick."

"Rillick, we will do everything we can, okay? But you must give us room. Now."

If any other ordered him that, no doubt he would have to be dragged out. But the unwavering authority in his voice was just enough, and even then it was almost impossible. With uneasy steps, he stumbled through the door.

Rillick staggered down the hallway of the house, delirious. His mind spun so fast it made him dizzy. He told himself Chorrol was in good hands. He repeated the words over and over in his head. adrenaline that carried him here was all but gone. Now, he barely realised he reached the outside of the house, the cool breeze giving him some small comfort.

Voices rung out in the blur. One was Shaan, and one, with a thick accent, he did not recognise.

"'e aloive? 'e still aloive?"

He rubbed his brow with the back of his hand. Shaan approached him, his eyes filled with fear.

"Okay." He said softly.

He had a rag in his hand of which he wiped it across his face. Rillick didn't know why he was doing what it was he was doing, didn't have the strength to stop him. "You have blood there, friend."

Blood? The words shook Rillick.

Shaan pushed the rag into his hands. He looked down and saw his hands drenched in blood, and it was clear where it came from. Suddenly, he felt very ill, and it was hard to breathe.

"I'll take it from you."

He held the fabric in his hands so tightly, his knuckles grew white.

"Where is he? Is he well?"

He turned and entered the house. There were footsteps close behind him. He found his way back to the room with Chorrol and Herrasil. Chorrol lay on his side and Herrasil was hunched over him with a long needle and large ceramic bowl, but Rillick couldn't see nor care exactly what he was doing.

"I take it he's your kin?" he asked as Rillick approached.

"Aye." Rillick answered. "He is my son."

"Most fortunate. If magic is needed I will need you." He stood up and turned. "What happened?"

"Oi was tracking a buck ya see." Came the thick accent of the man with the bow and arrows. Ortus, as Rillick recalled. "'e scarpered last second an' missed it. 'it 'im instead."

"We are fortunate you used the broadhead arrows." Said Herrasil. "A barbed head would've been much more problematic, but it did caused much damage. It punctured the lung. Getting the arrow out is simple enough, but as to repair the organ... it won't be easy."

"I ain't sawed 'im, I tells ye." Ortus pleaded quietly to Pitra behind them. "Not 'till 'e was on t' ground."

"Lorelai doesn't know?" said Rillick as dreaded realisation down on him.

Shaan looked up. "No, she..."

Tears trailed down Rillick's face. "My wife doesn't know." He sobbed quietly. "My wife doesn't know."

...

"Still worrying about it?"

Lorelai turned back around. Anderea watched her a short distance away. It was clear she was not as concerned.

"That deer was running from something." She said.

"A walker, most likely." Replied Dar, some steps ahead of the two.

She frowned, but made no further comment, though she wasn't convinced. If it was, then why have they not encountered any yet?

The party continued their journey through the forest. As they walked, Harley would occasionally run ahead of them, but everyone's excitement would dissipate everytime he came back empty. The light was beginning to dim, and small beams of late afternoon sunlight penetrated the gaps in the trees to the ground.

"Should they not have joined us by now?" asked Cralo, breaking the silence.

"There is nothing we can do about it, anyhow." Dar called out from the front. "No good for any of us running about in every direction."

"So what do we do?" Asked Lorelai, her patience limited.

"As we were. Scour the forest for Salpha, work our way back to the village."

"I'm sure they'll join us back there." Said Anderea.

Lorelai remained quiet. She couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

The hike continued. It seemed as though the village was further than when they left. Anderea glanced over to Cralo, who stared ahead into nothing.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through." She said, sidling up to her. "I know how you feel."

Cralo turned her head and smiled. "I guess you do. Thank you." She looked ahead again and down. Her smile disappeared. "The thought of her, out here by herself. It's the not knowing that is killing me so." She began to choke, trying to speak through sobs. "I just keep hoping she doesn't meet Amee's fate."

At the mention of Amee, Anderea glared daggers into Cralo. The words hit her like a blow to the chest from a warhammer. She felt her hand ball into a fist.

Cralo's look of confusion was short lived, replaced by horror at herself.

"By the gods!" she gasped, and took Anderea's hands into hers. "That is the worst thing I ever said."

Anderea closed her eyes to keep her anger down. She felt herself calm. It would not do to antagonise one who is grieving. She forced a smile.

"We're all hoping and preying for you," she said finally, "for what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth." They looked up. Dar stormed up to them and growled. "Not a blighted thing. It's a waste of time, this hoping and preying." He looked Cralo in the eye. "We will find that little girl, and when we do, she'll be fine.

With that, he turned and walked back to the front of the charge. "Am I the only one what has his head on straight?" he muttered. "Tyr's arse."

Lorelai failed to suppress a smile.

Back at the village, Dall walked slowly towards the ox-cart, the reins of Highlander and Cherrykeeper, the horse Cralo arrived on. On the way, Ty-Varaz caught up with him. He seemed worried.

"These horses will certainly pull their weight, I tell you now." Dall said in an attempt to keep spirits high.

It didn't work.

"Shouldn'ta they be back now?" Ty-Varaz asked.

Dall shrugged. "The day is still young. Let's not worry yet." He looked him over, noting the somewhat vacant stare. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't answer, and walked past him.

He placed his leg in front of him, preventing him from going any further. "Ty-Varaz? I asked how you are feeling just now. I beg of you, do not belittle that question."

Ty-Varaz looked down at his arm, wrapped in a ripped up curtain and held in place with string. "It really, really hurts. Throbbin' sum'n awful."

"Let me see."

Dall knelt down and carefully lifted the 'bandage' to look at the wound. He grimaced at the sight. He thought Ara's cut was bad. The cut was wide, and deep, and his veins were a dark blue, streaking out like hundreds of small roots.

"Don't, don't touch it!" Ty-Varaz cried in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He lay the bandage flat again. "Listen, your veins are very discoloured. You have quite the infection. Without proper treatment you could die of blood poisoning."

Ty-Varaz stared blankly for a time, then burst into laughter, lifting his head in a loud guffaw.

"Oh, 'ells. Wouldn'ta that be tha way." He said between breaths. "World done for, undead taken over, and Tyrador, last of Clan Glasshound is done in by a cu' on 'is arm!"

He doubled over and braced himself on a nearby fence.

The performance put Dall on edge. It was clear he was not of sound mind.

"Aye, that would be unfortunate." He said offhandedly, as he tried to figure out what to do. "We need to find some medicine. All our best remedies were used up on Ara. There's no potion shop and we've been to the herbalist but there's nothing left."

"Seems tha ox needed more than we thought."

Dall nodded. "My thoughts exactly." He put his hand on his chin in thought. "Well, we haven't been thorough enough. We've searched the stores, but not all the houses. So lets look there."

Ty-Varaz's mouth curled to a grateful smile and clapped Dall on the arm. His eyes showed one barely lucid. He had to find medicine soon.

Later, Ty-Varaz stumbled his way house to house, searching cupboards and drawers to no avail. After some time the task melted together. Until one house, which seemed custom-fit for one of the smallfolk, as he was rifling through a kitchen drawer, his hands fell on something. wooden, but smooth as silk. Through the blur that was his sight, He could see it was a tobacco pipe. Excited, he rummaged some more and acquired a single match and some strong smelling dried leaves.

It didn't take long for Ty-Varaz to prepare the pipe, and before long, he breathed in the flavoursome fumes. It tasted awful, and almost immediately, he broke into fits of coughing, but he could already feel its calming effects. He sighed in bliss, as smoke billowed from his mouth.

He cheerfully staggered down the hallway leading outside, puffing on his newfound pipe. But when he looked to his left, he saw something he overlooked. A closed door. A curved line of blood stained the floor leading underneath. Curious, he turned the handle and slowly pushed the door aside. What little respite Ty-Varaz had from the tobacco disappeared upon seeing the room ahead.

The room was no doubt a children's bedroom. Filled as it was with dusty toys and baubles. But it was the small bed which lay at the opposite wall that caught his attention. The streak of blood trailed all the way onto the blanket, pulled halfway to the floor. On the bed was chunks of flesh, and on the wall was a bloody handprint, pulled downwards.

It was too small for an adult.

Ty-Varaz removed the pipe, his hands shot to his mouth as his stomach begun to stir. He slammed the door shut and ran outside.

They had to find Salpha, and soon.

...

Rillick buried his face in his hands. He couldn't bare to face the world.

"Why did I let him come with us?" he muttered. "I should've sent him with Lorelai."

"You start that," said Shaan, "you'll never see the end of that burden."

He looked up at him with a glare. "A little girl goes missing. We look for her. simple. You said we should head back."

"It matters not what I said."

"Chorrol was shot because I was reckless and stubborn." He continued, becoming more aggressive. "It should be me in there."

Shaan tried to stay calm, but he found himself also sharpening his own voice. "You've been there, and you pulled through. As will he."

"Is that why I escaped the temple?" he said, staring at his hands. "Found my family for it to end here, like this? As some kind of sick jest?"

Shaan shot from his seat and jabbed a finger at him. "Stop it. Just stop."

Rillick also rose from his chair, and met Shaan halfway.

"A little goes missing. We look for her." Rillick wanted to stop, but he couldn't. he was too angry. "It's plain and simple."

"Rillick." A voice rung out, dispelling any tension between them.

Magrie stood at the doorway. "We need you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Rillick followed her into the room.

Chorrol was conscious, but lay crying in pain, the arrow still lodged in his chest. His breaths ragged wheezes and gasps.

"You, hold him down." Herrasil gestured to Rillick and hurried over to his side and picked up a pair of iron forceps from among the various surgical items on the bedside table.

Rillick couldn't move. He wanted to, but panic held him in place.

Shaan pushed past him. "I have him."

Chorrol struggled to turn his head, looking straight at Rillick. "Fa... fath... er... f..."

Shaan held a firm grip on Chorrol's shoulders as Herrasil dug the forceps into the wound, and pulled it open. The house filled with Chorrol's screams of agony. Witnessing this hurled Rillick over the edge.

"Stop!" he yelled with rage. "You're killing him!"

"Rillick, do you want him to live?" Herrasil cried over Chorrol's wails.

He fought every inch of himself not to tackle Herrasil to the ground. A part of him knew he knew what he was doing, and that part prevailed. But only barely

Behind him, Pitra pushed him towards the bed.

"He needs life." She said.

Rillick payed no attention to her. He didn't know what she was on about, and didn't care.

Shaan looked up. "DO IT NOW!"

Driven by the shock of Shaan's tone, Rillick surged forward and knelt by the two.

The pained cries of his son continued until the wound was much larger than before. He could see the base of the arrowhead. Chorrol slumped over lifeless.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait. Wait. Hey." Shaan stammered.

Herrasil hastily placed a hand on Rillick's head. He felt an odd sensation, like something was sucked out of his body. When Herrasil's hand was removed, he keeled over, feeling suddenly exhausted.

He looked up to see Herrasil's hand glowed a blue light. He hovered it over Chorrol's chest. The light poured from the hand and enveloped Chorrol. Afterwards, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Do not fear, he simply passed out." He said calmly.

"What... did you do?" Rillick asked, gasping for breath.

"I apologise. I didn't have much time. I took some of your health and gave it to your son."

Shaan looked at him in shock. "You know healing magic?"

"I know a little. Now." He rose to his feet. "Let us get this arrow out."

He pulled out the wire Rillick tied earlier and fed it through the shaft and tied it around the arrowhead.

"I want you to pull on this." Herrasil ordered Shaan, who joined him. "Keep it straight."

Rillick sat frozen, his hands trembled. He tried to stand, but was too weak to do so. Herrasil grabbed a handful of leaves from the table and shoved them in his mouth.

Shaan wrapped the string around his wrist a few times and pulled. The arrow didn't budge.

"Harder." Herrasil instructed, holding his palm gently on the shaft to keep it straight.

He obeyed, straining, gritting his teeth in effort. Finally the arrow burst free, launching him backwards. Herrasil wasted no time and pulled the leaves from his mouth and applied it to the wound.

The removal of the arrow was as though the clouds in Rillick's mind subsided. At last, he could relax. He felt a wave of different emotions wash over him. Gratitude, joy, anger, sorrow. It was as exhausting as surely as Herrasil's spell.

Time passed swiftly and quietly. Rillick sat on a chair beside his son, his breathing slight. It was an effort to even sit upright. He did feel some strength return, just in time, too, as Herrasil walked over and lay a hand on his head. The familiar sensation came as his health was drained and transferred to Chorrol. Rillick slumped over his knees and slowly pulled himself upright again.

"Lorelai needs to be here." He mumbled. "She does not know what has happened. I must find her, bring her here."

He gripped the back and the arm of the chair.

"You cannot do that." Said Herrasil.

"She is his mother!" he shot, as he hauled himself up. "She needs to know what happened. Her son was shot."

"And he will need more of your essence. You cannot stray from this bed."

Rillick tried to walk, but his legs buckled underneath him.

Shaan caught him as he fell. "Hey. Come now."

"I'm okay." He whispered. "I'm okay."

He half-carried Rillick out the door and dropped him into the armchair in the other room. Ortus and Magrie sat silent on the other side of the room.

"Lorelai has to be here, Shaan." Rillick pleaded weakly. "She has to know."

"I get that." Said Shaan, then thought a moment. "I'll handle it. But you must handle your task."

He looked up and frowned in confusion. "My... My task?"

"Being here for your son. Even if he didn't need your health to survive, there is no way I'd ever let you walk out that door." He knelt by Rillick's side. "My friend, I would break your legs if you tried. Surely you know this?" He gripped him firmly by the shoulder. "If some thing were to happen to him and you weren't here. If he..." he trailed off. But by the way Rillick closed his eyes and looked away, he didn't have to finish. "You would never forgive yourself, nor would Lorelai."

Rillick leant over his knees and buried his head in his hands. He remained quiet for a long time, as his resolve subsided. He looked up at Shaan, and nodded slowly.

"You're right."

Shaan grinned. "When was I ever wrong?" his smile faded away as fast as it came. "You know, when... when you were in the temple, the one you were never supposed to leave. My friend, you should've seen Lorelai." He shook his head in wonderment as he looked back. "The strength of that woman... one can scarcely fathom." He looked Rillick firmly in the eye. "That is what you must summon now. I mean, Chorrol, he needs that from you." He pulled him in so their heads touched. "So you steel yourself, you hear me? You have the hard part. Just leave the rest to me, okay?"

"Okay." Whispered Rillick.

The door opened and they broke away. They looked up to see Herrasil.

"He's out of peril for the moment."

"So, what happens now?" asked Rillick.

"I won't lie to you," said Herrasil, reluctantly, "there's a problem."

"Tell me."

"He's in a bad way and living on borrowed time. Your health has kept him alive, but not indefinitely."

"Ya need potions then." Ortus called as he and Magrie joined them.

Herrasil thought a moment. "Not necessarily. I need strong healing magic. Magic I am unable to harness. I remember the temple of Chuntea in Secomber had an artifact. A wand that could heal."

"Th' temple sho' up in flames a month ago." said Ortus, then gasped in realisation. "Th' tower!"

Herrasil nodded. "My thoughts precisely. They set up a sanctuary there. They would've taken it there."

Everyone stood silent. The question no one needed to asked loomed over everyone's head.

Finally, Shaan sighed, chuckled and shook his head. "I said leave the rest to me. Is it too late to take that back?"

"I hate you going alone." Said Rillick.

Shaan turned to Herrasil. "So, what does this tower look like? Draw me a map."

"Ya won't need a map." Said Ortus. "Oil take ye there. Ain't but foive moiles."

"Ortus, no." Pitra snapped.

He walked over to her. "Now, now, Ain't no toime fer ponderin' an' I'm responsible. 'ells if oim te sit 'ere while this fella takes on alone." He turned to Shaan. "Ya don't even know what t' thing look loike."

"I suppose you are right there." Said Shaan.

"Oi was a groundskeeper at t' temple. Oi do. Seen it before oi 'ave. Now we can bandy about 'till next 'arvest, or we can do it real quick loike."

Shaan smiled. "I'll take real quick like."

Upon find a small portion of his strength return, Rillick rose from his seat.

"I should give you thanks." He said.

Ortus fixed him with a steely gaze. "Wait 'til tha lad is up 'n' about, then we'll talk. Oill gather up t' 'orses."

He left through the door as Magrie approached Rillick.

"Were is she?" she asked. "Your wife?"

The forest was filled with the cacophony of insects as Lorelai and those around her walked in silence, their feet crunching on the underbrush beneath their feet. The sky was rapidly turning dark, and what little light did find their way through the barrier of the thick treetops only dimly illuminated their way.

As much as she tried, and wanted, to continue her search for Salpha, she found her vigilance constantly slipped. Her mind wandered from their task as she thought of Rillick and Chorrol. She felt a strange sense of dread when she thought of them, and the arrival of that deer, bounding away as if something spooked it, yet was oddly not pursued by walkers. Though she would shake it off as paranoid thoughts of a weary mind, it lingered still.

"It's getting dark. I say end it for now." Dar's deep voice rung out, snapping her to the present.

He drove everyone to a halt and they gathered round.

"Let's head back." Lorelai agreed.

"We'll continue our search at daybreak?" Cralo asked by her side.

Lorelai placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "Aye, we'll find her tomorrow."

Dar stole a glance at Cralo, under the fierce demeanor, the half-orc's eyes betrayed a softness. He turned a gave a sharp whistle. Seconds after, Harley tore from the bushes, leaves and dried sticks clung to his skin and spikes.

Rillick walked carefully towards the field outside the house. In his hand he held his longsword at his hip, sheathed, inverted and pointed down behind him. Shaan walked closely beside him, making sure his friend was well. In front of them, two horses were equipped with saddles and saddlebags. Ortus stood with them with Pitra wrapped in his arms.

"Stay srong, all roight?" he said gently.

Rillick turned to Shaan. "Just get what you need and get out of there."

Ortus looked up as Rillick walked up to him. He lifted his sword in two hands and presented it to him.

"You will need this." He said. "Take it."

Shocked, Ortus stood hesitant before him. After some silent encouragement, he took it off Rillick's hands and pulled it halfway from its scabbard to inspect it.

"'Tis a foine blade, Mr. Rillick." He said as he sheathed it again. "Oill bring it back in one piece."

He picked up his bow and arrows off the ground and tied them to some leather on the horse. Shaan swung onto his horse with practiced ease as Ortus did the same with a little more difficulty.

With one final look behind them, they spurred their steeds onward down the path.

Rillick watched them as they thundered towards the horizon. Herrasil walked up and stopped beside him.

"Let us prey they return safely." He said. "Chivalry is one of my best horses."

He sighed, then turned back to the house.

"Let's check on your boy."

Soon enough, Shaan and Ortus slowed to a trot as they journeyed across the fields. Shaan cursed himself for his hesitance. But what was he to do? There was only two people he cared for in what remains of this world, and he dared not sit by while one of them inched ever closer to death. Now he was riding to what may be his grave on what may be a fruitless endeavor. When this is done, then he would leave. He would consider this his last act for that accursed party.

He glanced over to his companion. fat, unfit and clearly not able to handle a serious fight. It is a wonder how he has lived this long. Rillick's sword dangled lazily at his belt, he had to wonder if he could even lift it, let alone wield it effectively. What's more was the awful quality of his bow. Shaan was never an archer, save for the odd crossbow role, but even he could see how dire it was. The wood was riddled with dents and marks left untreated. In fact, it didn't look oiled at all. The string looked ready to break at any moment and looked untreated for gods know how long.

"Only weapon Oi 'ave." Ortus said suddenly.

It seem Ortus noticed his disapproval. Shaan looked ahead again. At least he had his greatsword. As long as the fool stayed out of his way, they shouldn't have too much hardship.

His arm felt like it was on fire, but Ty-Varaz felt some solace at least from the pipe he busily puffed on. But the image of the bloodied child's room burned into his mind. He sat back against the ox cart and tried to shove the memory from his mind, to no avail.

"Found some more feed for the beasts." Dall called as he approached. "An excellent quality saber," he held up the lute he held in his hand, "and I figured Gelnen might like this. Perhaps he plays." He lowered down next to him. "Alas, no medicine. You?"

Ty-Varaz shook his head and held up his pipe. "Only this. What're we doin'?"

"Pulling supplies together." Dall responded.

"No, I mean," he leaned forward. "Wha're we doin'? Folk off'n tha woods, lookin' fer tha poor lass 'n' we're 'ere. Why?"

He paused to study Dall's expression, who shrugged and shook his head in confusion.

"'cause they think we're tha weakest. Wha're ye, 70?"

"Sixty four." Said Dall guardedly.

Ty-Varaz leant back against the cart. "Feh. An' I'm tha stubby li'le dwarf with tha funny accent. See how precarious that makes me situation?"

Dall stared at him, brow furrowed. "What in the blazes are you on about?"

"I'm talkin' two goodie human city guards 'n' a brute of an 'alf-orc who's brother cu' off 'is own limbs 'cause I dropped a key. Who in that scenario ye think'll be 'anged?"

"You cannot be serious!" Dall exclaimed. "Am I missing something? Those 'human guards' have done all right by us, and if I'm not mistaken, that brute half-orc went out of his way to save your arse. More than once."

Ty-Varaz continued as if he didn't even hear him. "An' dinnae forget aboot Anderea. Offs 'er own sister."

"She was already dead."

"Then wants ta take a trip through tha abyss itself." He turned his head to Dall. "Aye, she's all thar."

This struck Dall deeply. He felt his voice sharpen. "She's having a tough time. What is wrong with you?"

"Tha whole world is 'avin' a tough time!" Ty-Varaz threw his arms up. "Seven 'ells! Open yer eyes. Look were we are! Stuck in this mess 'ere."

Dall desperately shushed him before he could literally wake the dead. Ty-Varaz cradled his bald head and winced, then pulled his hand across his face and mottled beard.

"Let's just go." He muttered and thumped the wooden surface behind him. "Just take tha ox-cart."

Dall stared at him, noting his eyes, how they focused on nothing. It dawned on him.

"You've run mad." He breathed.

"I mean it, lad. Why're we in tha middle of this village like live bait?" He grabbed Dall's shoulder. "Let's go, you, me and tha oxen. Let's go afore they get back."

He trailed off when Dall's open hand neared his head. He recoiled, but Dall reassured him with a gesture. He placed it gently on his forehead.

"By the gods!" gasped Dall. "You're burning up. Give me that." He snatched the pipe hanging loosely from his mouth. "We have to knock that fever down." He sighed and looked up to the darkening sky. "Where are they?"

As the forest began to open up, the lighter it became. as Dar and the others retraced their steps back to the village.

...

"How much further?" Anderea called out from the back.

"Not much." Dar grumbled, annoyed. "Maybe a hundred miles as the crow flies."

"To bad we're not crows." She muttered under her breath.

She plodded along, over roots and large branches, her dagger held loosely in her fingers. Her path lead right into a spiderweb. She recoiled in disgust and wrestled the string off her person. As much as she tried, some still clung stubbornly to her clothes and hair.

"'As the crow flies' he says." She scoffed to the person beside her. "I'm getting tired of all this..."

She heard a snarl coming from her side. Her blood ran cold.

A scream of shot out behind Lorelai and she spun around, as did the others.

"Anderea!" she cried, and ran towards the sound.

She drew Rillick's shortsword as Anderea emerged into view, squirming on the ground, dagger raised as what was a native wood elf clambered on top of her. She plunged it into the walker's chest, but that didn't phase it in the slightest.

Lorelai rushed forward, but before she could do anything, a horse tore through the brush towards them. On top of which was a short haired girl with a mace in her hand, raised to strike.

As she passed Anderea, she swung the mace in a wide arc, launching the walker into the air. She stopped before Gelnen.

"Lorelai?" she said quickly. "Lorelai Grimoire?"

"I am Lorelai." She said, stepping forward.

"Rillick sent me. You must come now."

"What?"

"There has been an accident." She said, dire urgency in her voice. "Chorrol is wounded. He's still alive but you must come now."

Lorelai stood dumbfounded in front of her.

"Rillick needs you!" she ordered. "Now!"

This was enough to break her from her stupor. She dropped her pack and leapt onto the horse.

"Hey, wait a moment." Dar protested. "You can't get on that horse, we don't even know her."

The girl turned to him. "Rillick said you had others at the abandoned village northwest of here?"

Everyone confirmed.

"Follow the river Dessarin south of the Goldenfields. Our farm is there. It's the largest house you find. Name's Gerron."

She spurred her horse onward and it galloped away leaving the group staring stunned in confusion.

The silence was broken by a faint moaning. Dar glanced over at the walker from earlier reached out at him, just before Harley leapt onto it and bit off its head.

Dar scratched his fur as he scarfed down the head. They continued on their way.

Dall stood before Gelnen as the others caught up from some distance behind. Gelnen took some time to catch his breath.

"Wounded? What do you mean wounded?"

"I don't know, Dall." Gelnen replied. "All I know is this human bird rode out of nowhere on a horse and took Lorelai."

Dar reached him and Dall sent an accusing look. "And you let her?"

"Get off my back, old man." Dar growled as he passed. "Rillick sent her. She knew Lorelai's name and Chorrol's."

"I heard screams." He turned to Anderea. "Was that you?"

She didn't respond. She stared straight ahead and headed towards the ox cart.

"She was attacked by a walker." Said Gelnen. "It was a close call."

Dall looked back at her. "Anderea, are you well?"

Still no response. She opened the door of the cart and climbed in.

There was a chill in the air as Rillick walked slowly out and took in the surroundings. All around him were rolling hills and meadows of golden grass shifting in the wind, vibrant as the setting sun painted the ground. What little trees there were stood tall and grand in their place. There came odd sounds of various farmyard animals that belonged to the Gerron's.

He heard the door opening and closing behind him. He looked behind to see Herrasil.

"This place is beautiful." He said, turning back again.

"My family's lived here for 160 years." Said Herrasil. "There's a reason this place is called the Goldenfields."

He didn't notice until now, but Herrasil, and all his family for that matter, had an accent typical of those from the northern regions of Faerun. It was heavy, but well spoken.

"I can hardly believe how serene it is. How untouched. You're lucky."

"We weren't completely unscathed." He said, looking down sullenly. "The plague took my wife, my stepson."

Rillick couldn't help but feel a small prick of disappointment. This place seemed perfect.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"My daughters were spared." Herrasil held his head high. "I am grateful for Chuntea for that."

"You worship the Grain Goddess?" Rillick asked in slight surprise, thinking back to his previous encounter with her.

He nodded slowly, then continued. "These people here, all we have left is each other. Just hoping we can ride it out in peace until there's a hero to slay whoever is behind this."

Rillick's throat ran dry. That hero was to be him, or so he thought. He forced his next words out.

"I tried, I..." he stammered, then hung his head. "We went to Silverymoon. There was a wizard tower there. There is no one responsible."

Herrasil stared wide-eyed in shock at this new information, but his face began to soften.

"So this truly is a plague. Then we shall wait for a cure."

"There is no cure, either."

"I don't believe that." Herrasil smiled warmly. "When the Wailing Death hit Neverwinter, many died from it, but they and Neverwinter endured."

"This is a whole other thing." Muttered Rillick.

"That's what they always say, 'this one's different'."

"Well, this one is."

Herrasil turned his body to face Rillick. "Mankind has fought giant, terrifying monsters, unfathomably powerful warlords, invasions of creatures from other planes and yes, even nation-wide plagues. Some far worse than this one. Every time, we get our behinds kicked for a while, then we bounce back. This is simply the world we live in. It's dangerous, sometimes deadly, but we have always endured."

Rillick looked in his eyes. The sun washed on his gentle face. That optimism shone through brightly through his own darkened soul. At that moment, he would give anything to feel that hope again. But, no matter how hard he tried, he could not. He looked away.

"I wish I could believe that."

They stared out at the horizon and Rillick's eyes lay on a spot in the distance, coming towards them across the field at great speed. As it drew nearer, Rillick could see it was a horse, and on top were two figures.

He knew exactly who she was.

By the time Magrie and Lorelai reached them, Lorelai leapt off the horse and ran towards them, tears streaming from her eyes. Rillick caught her and held her tight, until she pushed past him and into the house.

Everything sped by in a blur. Before long Rillick found himself standing over his wife as she lay on the bed beside Chorrol's form, her other hand held tightly in his.

"My little boy." She wept. "My little boy. It's okay. Mother's here. You'll be okay. We'll make you okay."

"I'm sorry." Was all Rillick could think to say.

She continued to repeat those words over and over again, and Rillick silently did the same. He will make him okay. He had endured too much to lose his son from a simple accident. Then and there, he truly felt that not even the forces of hell itself could stop him.

Later, as the sun settled into the hills and valleys beyond, Rillick slumped forward as Herrasil finally released him. The old healer carefully guided the orb of blue energy over Chorrol and gently pushed it into his chest. The room darkened as the light disappeared inside.

Rillick tried to push himself from the chair, but his legs could not find the strength to support himself. Lorelai rushed to his side.

"Slow, slow. How many times has he done that to you?" she asked.

"Two. Only two."

She walked him down the hallway into the main room. Herrasil had gone ahead, and now approached them with a mug of water in hand. Rillick gratefully accepted it and drank it down. The cool liquid made his head spin and he felt some small part of his strength return.

"Okay, it is clear to me," said Lorelai, "when Shaan returns with this other man..."

"Ortus."

"Ortus. The fool who shot my son."

Herrasil fixed her a hard stare. "Madam, it was an accident."

"I'll consider that. But for now he's the fool who shot our son."

Rillick had to wonder if she would've been as harsh to the man if he saw the great guilt that shrouded his eyes. Then again, he thought, it was Lorelai.

"Lorelai, they're doing everything they can to make it right." He said.

She gave him an impatient smile and turned back to Herrasil. "As soon as they get this item back you can perform this ritual?"

"It's not even that." Said Herrasil. "A simple flick of the wand, nothing more."

"Okay." She looked down, relieved. Then her brow tightened. "Can't you simply use your own magic to heal him? You are a healer, after all."

"Well, yes, in a sense."

She rose her head slowly. "In a sense?" she said, coldly.

Rillick rose to his feet and placed a hand on Lorelai's shoulder. "My love, we do not have the luxury of choice. We're lucky to have even found a magic user."

"I understand that. But, I mean, you are a healer, yes?"

He paused, an unreadable expression on his features. "Yes madam. I worked at the Temple of Chuntea in Secomber before my retirement."

"The temple?" light returned to Lorelai's eyes. "So you're a cleric?"

Herrasil shook his head grimly. "No, madam. I was the gamekeeper for the local woods."

"How many arrows have you pulled out of people before?" said Lorelai slowly, with a sharpness to her tone.

"Two." He replied. "One from your boy."

"And the other?"

"From one of the mayor's hunting hounds."

Lorelai stared at him, horrified. Rillick started feeling very weak.

"But... the magic-"

"Was self-taught." Herrasil finished. "I know that and Cure Minor Wounds."

"I have to sit."

Rillick collapsed into his chair, and almost to the floor, but Lorelai caught him and held him upright.

"Completely in over your head, aren't you." Lorelai snapped.

"Madam," Herrasil stated calmly. "Aren't we all?"

...

As the eve reached twilight, Shaan and Ortus inched their way towards the tower, heads low. They stopped behind an upturned wagon, the growls and moans of walkers filled the night air. There must've been hundreds, from the sounds of it. Shaan took one hand off his greatsword and gripped the edge of the wagon.

"Okay," he whispered. "Lets take a look."

Ortus nodded, and they slowly peered over, then immediately ducked down again, backs against the wagon. The way before them was amass with a dense sea of walkers. Shaan and Ortus glanced at each other, shocked.

After a minute of heavy breathing, Ortus calmed enough to talk. "See that tower 'cross t' way?"

Shaan sat up and glanced over his shoulder and over the wagon. past the crowd of rotting flesh sat a hill with a tall stone watchtower. He shot a glare at Ortus. "That's where we have to get to?"

Ortus looked down in defeat. "Aye."

He looked back to the tower. How on Toril were they going to get there? He looked around, searching for something, and his eyes turned to the militia barracks not far from them. A single unlit torch jutted from a sconce beside the battered in door.

An idea formed in his mind.

...

Cralo glared, eyes glistening.

"I won't do it." She snapped. "We cannot simply leave."

Dall's eyes fell downward to the gravel beneath them. The day was nearing an end and not even a hair was found of Salpha. He grew weary, and didn't have the strength to argue.

"Cralo, the party is scattered and weak." He said.

"What if she comes back and we're not here? It could happen."

Anderea stepped forward. "If Salpha found her way back and we're gone, that would be awful."

Dall opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. Thankfully, Dar strode over.

"Okay, we ought to plan for this." He grunted. "I say tomorrow at dawn is soon enough to give us a chance to erect a big sign, leave her supplies." He turned and gave Cralo meaningful gaze, then back to the front again. "Harley and I will stay here tonight, stay with Ara and the other one."

"Eevee." Dall responded, but Dar just shrugged. "And if they are staying I'm staying too. They're my oxen, after all."

Cralo looked between the two, shocked, and smiled. "You both have my eternal gratitude." She choked.

Behind her, Anderea shook her head, then shrugged and looked up at her. "So will I."

All this time, Gelnen stood silent, fiddling at the frays of his shoulder cloak. He silently admitted he wanted to leave, but in the throes of courage being thrown about...

"Well, if you lot are staying, then-"

"Not you, Gelnen." Dall rose his hand to silence him. "You will take Cherrykeeper."

"Wait, me?" Gelnen stood dumbfounded, glancing at the grey horse and back to Dall. "Why is it always me!"

"You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on." Dall ordered. "But most important, you must take Ty-Varaz there. This is not optional." He gestured to the dwarf leaning weakly on the ox cart. "That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious disease. Get him to that farm. See if they have any medicine. Because if not, I make no jest, Ty-Varaz will perish."

As soon as Dar heard this, he ran over to his pack laying among the rest of their inventory. "Why wait now to say something?" he pulled out a large burlap sack from the front. "I got some stuff here what I got from my brother." As everyone stared at him, mouths agape, Dar rummaged through the sack's contents, holding up various narcotics. "Let's see. Mist cheese, don't need that. silkroot, no. Huh, he's still got some of that oddly coloured haepthum from that alchemist Walthus. Here we go!" He pulled out a small vial of greenish yellow liquid. "A restoration potion. Not the lesser stuff neither. He held onto it just in case the drugs got too much."

...

Shaan tore through the drawers of the barracks' front desk, the torch he acquired from the front rested on its surface. Ortus stood at the doorway, eyes fixed on the walkers ahead.

At last, Shaan found what he was looking for. A flint and steel. He picked up the torch and stalked out the building towards a house nearby to the tower, using crates, barrels and fences as cover. Ortus followed and realisation slowly dawned on him as to his plans. Shaan struck the steel over the torch and it burst into flame.

He pocketed the flint and steel and picked up the torch. With a quiet grunt of effort, he hurled it at the hut. It bounced off the thatch roof in a spray of sparks. He darted back to their original position, and minutes later, the house was ablaze, filling the night sky with black smoke. This got the attention of the horde and they slowly shambled over to the roaring fire. Once a significant number of walkers were distracted, they sprinted over to the tower and slammed the door shut.

...

"We cannot wait much longer."

Herrasil stood over his wife as she assessed Chorrol. Rillick paced back and forth behind them. They had just noticed the smoke rising in the distance, in the direction Shaan and Ortus had gone. He grew more anxious every step he made. His hand grabbed Herrasil's shoulder more forcefully than either would've liked, but his mind was racing.

"Drain me some more." He said. "Whatever he needs. Then I will go."

Lorelai shot to her feet. "Go? Go where?"

"He said five miles. They should've been back eons ago and that smoke is growing. Somethings gone awry."

Lorelai's cold glare could stop an army in their tracks. "Are you mad? You are not going after them."

"Rillick, listen to your wife." Said Herrasil over his shoulder.

"If they got into trouble..."

Herrasil turned and gave him a stern stare. "You are in no shape to do anything about it. You're health is very low. You're barely on your feet. You wouldn't even make it across the field."

Rillick swayed slightly. His legs trembled in effort to keep him standing. "If something happened I must go."

"No, your place is here." Lorelai snapped, stepping in front of him to bar him access. "If Shaan said he'll be back, he will be back. He's like you in that way."

Rillick grimaced. "I can't just sit here!"

"That is precisely what you will do!" she shouted back. "If you must prey or cry or say the gods are heartless, you go right ahead, but you will not leave, Rillick." She let out a breath and her voice softened almost to a whisper. "Chorrol needs you here, and I cannot do this on my own. Not this one. I can't."

She was right, of course. Shaan always told him he had trouble sitting still. He backed away from Lorelai and the door until his back hit the wall, eyes fixed on his wife, tears shining brightly in her eyes. It took all of what little strength he had left to seat himself in the chair by Chorrol. Even now, every fiber of Rillick's being cried out, demanding he act. But he fought against his instincts. If nothing else, then for the sake of his family.

...

Shaan bounded up the tower's spiral staircase, skipping multiple at a time. When he reached the top room, he wasted no time tipping crates over and pulling items off the shelves. Ortus joined the search minutes later, breathing heavily. The state of the man was pitiful, Shaan thought. Every time he laid eyes on him, rage built up beneath him. Accident or no, he harboured a silent hatred that burned in his heart.

Eventually, Shaan felt something thin and smooth on on of the high shelves. He brought it down and saw he was holding a wand. He held it up to Ortus, who nodded. They had what they came for. Now they just had to escape.

They started for the door, but Ortus stopped, turned, and scooped up a potion from the debris. He leveled it with his eyes.

"Cure Critical Wounds." He said with a grin. "Be off me 'ead if Oi left this behoind."

"Good eye. Let's go." Said Shaan urgently.

Shaan grabbed his greatsword by the edge of the stairs and the two tore down the stairs, stopping at the door. He hovered his hand over the door's handle and looked at Ortus, who nocked an arrow.

He threw the door open, and right into the path of a horde, journeying to the inferno to their left. It was larger now, and began to spread to other buildings. Unfortunately this attracted a lot more than anticipated. Several among the crowd noticed, and turned their attention, to them.

"Oh, bloody 'ell." Ortus gasped.

"Come on!" Shouted Shaan, and bolted away from the fire.

Their path lead them past more of the creatures, who began their pursuit. Shaan took the lead with Ortus beetling behind them. They ran down a narrow alleyway. Moments later, walkers crowded into the alley after them.

"Stay with me!"

The alley emerged into back streets and a small flight of stairs. He bounded up them into another group. Immediately he leapt back to the lower area and ran down the street. The flames now rose over the houses' rooftops.

"Come, come! This way!"

Shaan and Ortus burst out into the main street. The fire now consumed multiple houses and was heading their way. A thin layer of smoke filled the air around them. To make matters worse, walkers closed in on them from behind, and a huge mass down the street barred their way. The only direction they could go was towards the blaze.

Shaan looked around, desperate for anything, then he saw the building adjacent to him. An inn. He raced towards it. In his panic, he throttled the door, but it didn't budge. He looked down. It was locked with a padlock.

Ortus shot an arrow at a walker that neared them. They now surrounded them from all sides. Shaan took a step back and raised his greatsword.

"Okay! Stay back!"

He swung the large blade down hard. It hit firmly on the lock, but it only bent slightly. He hefted over his head and struck it again. It shifted outward and this gave him resolve. He prepared to strike again, beads of sweat rolled from his brow from the heat of the ever approaching fire.

He yelled and swung his greatsword with all his strength, and the lock ripped off the door in a spray of splinters. He threw himself through the now unbarred door, followed closely by Ortus. They heaved a nearby table up against the entrance just as the door and windows buckled against the weight of thousands of walkers.

"Damn it all!" Shaan shouted, pounding his fist into a table.

They were safe. For now.


	3. Save the Last one

The rising sun peaked over the horizon, painting the sky purple and orange, and the cool morning breeze strolled through the plains. Among the edges of the forest was a waterfall, where the river broke into a roar and thundered down the cliff into the large lake below.

Shaan stood along the shallows of the lake, submerged just below his chest. His clothes and weapons lay on the bank a short distance from him. Again he lifted the knife in his hand to his head, and ran the blade along his scalp. clumps of hair and flecks of blood fell into the water in a ring around him.

He looked down at the man in the water among the ripples and waves. He looked different. Very different. But was it his shaven head and the small wounds where he had cut too deeply? Or was it those eyes which harboured a dense, dark fury? It mattered not.

Shaan had died that night. And from the ashes rose someone stronger.

...

"Rillick, please... You must keep your strength."

The windows on either side of the barricaded door shattered, and dead by the hundreds oozed through the opening. Shaan and Ortus ran across the inn's main foyer, leaping and barrelling through the tables and chairs.

"Lorelai, did I ever tell you of the time Shaan stole Highlander, the mayor's stallion?"

"Aye, I do."

"I tell you, it was legendary."

They reached the kitchen's outside door, but the door was locked tight. The remains of the cooks hurled themselves at them and Shaan cleaved through them with his greatsword, along with various pots, pans and crockery which clattered onto the dusty floor. He shouted for Ortus to retrace their path.

"This was when we lived in Beregost during our younger years. He stole him in the middle of the day. He waited until Mayor Kinlie was out to lunch and made a beeline for the stables. He didn't bother with the saddle or reins, just jumps on his back and out he goes like a lightning bolt out of the town to the Greenfields. Remember? The one west of Beregost?"

The hoarde was firmly inside now as they returned to the main room, pouring from the doorways and broken windows into the dining area. The two scrambled up the stairs to the sleeping quarters. Shaan bolted into one of the rooms and beckoned Ortus to follow.

"But you have heard this before, yes? Mayor Kinlie, word was he didn't care for that horse much. Keeping him locked up in that stable and only occasionally grooming him. Shaan, he rides him to the fields and to a number of Amnish chestnuts."

With a last-effort heave, Shaan and Ortus shove the bed over the edge of the staircase. It thundered down the stairs and crushed the few walkers that had managed to climb up halfway. Now there was a barrier between them and the creatures. The two turned and ran down the hallway.

"He jumped off and sent Highlander to join them, and then starts sprinting back to Beregost. It's more than three miles away, but he is back by the time the mayor is finished with his lunch."

Rillick sat on a chair by the bed where Chorrol slept. His eyes fixed on his hands kneading together. He was relieved his restlessness had settled down significantly, but still it lingered. Lorelai lay silent on the other side of the bed, her arm draped around their son. Rillick looked up, but even that was now hard to do.

"When he joined the city watch in Balder's Gate and got a horse of his own, he named it Highlander in memory of that day." His head dropped again as he sighed. "But you have heard this tale a thousandfold." He straightened, or tried to, and took a deep breath. "What you said before, you are right. Shaan will be back for the wand. The town may burn to the ground, but he will return." He smiled. "He is driven like that."

Rillick stared ahead into nothing. Those words were more for his own ears than for hers, to hopefully disuade the stubborn part of him that still wanted to leave.

"Herrasil said you need to eat." Said Lorelai, giving him a warning glance.

Rillick looked to the plate of salted bread on the bedside table. His appetite was so depleted, The mere sight of it turned his stomach.

Reluctantly, he dragged the meal off the table into his lap and brought the bread to his mouth, but all he could muster was a tiny bite.

Dar lay on his bedroll staring up at the ceiling through the line where the boards met, trying to see through a gap that wasn't there. They had decided to shack up in one of the abandoned houses near to the ox-cart. With no walkers found in the village, there was no reason not to. They still kept to one house, as Dall insisted.

The dark was barely cut by the moonlight that shone through the window. His dire wolf slept beside him, head draped across his chest. From beyond the doorway in the next room was Cralo, who claimed the house's only bed. Her sobs kept him awake. But it wasn't because of the noise.

He craned his head to her. She faced the wall, cruled up in a ball. Her shoulders shook as she wept. From the kitchen was the feint rasping of steel. He gazed back up at the ceiling once more and his thoughts drifted to the first day of Salpha's disappearance, and how the tracks abruptly stopped. Ever since then his head spun in confusion. He had waved it off as simply the fading sun obsuring his vision, but tracks don't go from clear as day to completely invisible.

It did not bode well, and from the quiet sobbing and the rapping of steel, he knew he wouldn't get any sleep.

He gently pried Harley off his torso, rose to his feet and walked into the kitchen. Anderea sat at the table, which was covered in daggers. She dragged a whetstone along a curved hunting knife with practised confidence. Though still a little slow, she was much faster than she was.

"I would have my knife now." He said.

She lifted the knife to her eyes, turning it around to inspect its sharpness, then handed it to him hilt-first but looked at him curiously.

"Going to walk the road." Dar answered her question. "Look for the girl."

Cralo looked over her shoulder, her eyes shot red. He gave her a single nod as he gathered his crossbow and prepared the lantern and stepped out into the cool night air. He knew it was a vein hope that he would find her, but lying on the uncomfortable floor with a grieving mother was driving him mad. He had to do something, however pointless.

Standing on the roof of the ox-cart a few feet away, Dall turned and looked down at the half-orc, brow knitted with question. A few seconds later, Anderea joined him outside.

"I'm coming too." She declared.

The half-orc looked at her, considering. Then shrugged to himself and continued on his way.

"I'm going for a walk. Lay some light in the forest." He called over his shoulder to Dall. "If she's out there, give her something to look at."

"You think that's a good idea just now?" Dall asked.

"Dall." Anderea snapped.

"I'm just saying, there are more creatures than walkers in the forest at night."

"Dall!"

He was about to push further, but Anderea's cold stare had him frozen to the spot. Behind her, Dar sighed heavily.

"If we stick to the trail what was left by the natives," he said, "we shouldn't run into anything too bad."

Dall made no move to protest. Only when Dar lumbered away with Anderea close behind did he begin to stir. He stared hopelessely at the dancing light of Dar's lantern as it moved across the field towards the forest.

Shaan leant over the railing and gazed down at the writhing sea of hands reaching and grasping at he and Ortus, whose heavy rasping breaths grated on his ears. The walkers halted their advance, pushing against the upturned bed lodged in the turning corner of the staircase. He looked behind him to the long corridor. On the far window, he could see an orange haze. The fire was coming their way. They had to get out, and fast.

Shaan motioned behind him with his head. "The bedrooms have windows, yes? What's on the other side?"

Ortus inclined his head in thought. "'Bout a twen'y foot drop wit' naught to catch ye, perraps some bushes 'pendin' on t' room."

"We have no time. We have to get them open and get out."

He shook his head. "Nort me. Yew, perraps."

"Hey now."

"Come now, look at me!" He said quickly, gesturing to himself. "Ya really think oi'll squeeze through one of them windows with ease? They'll be all over us."

He darted his head in all directions, searching. Then took a breath. One Shaan recognised all too well. The bed slid slowly, then crashed down a few steps. It would not remain there for long.

"Alroit now, lookie 'ere. You stay up 'ere, oi'll jump down, give ye a chance ou' a window afore they get through."

"And where will you go?"

Ortus paused and stared at him, eyes wide with shock. It quickly occured to Shaan that his plan extended only so far.

He looked down at his own writhing hands. Fear was wrought on his face. "Moight be a cellar in t' kitchen... or bigger windows." He said unconvincingly.

Shaan stared at him with an amused smirk. "You're barmy, you know that?"

His fearful expression changed as he faced him, to a determined frown. "Just troyin' to do roight fer that boy."

Shaan turned his attention back below him. He was right. There wouldn't be enough time if he followed. It was a foolish plan, but less so than their other option.

"I will help you clear the way at least." He said, hefting his greatsword as they made for the stairs. "That way you have a chance."

Ortus nodded once, and clumsily drew Rillick's longsword. Shaan climbed onto the precariously placed bed and swung his blade through the walkers pulling at it. He swung again, and more undead fell. Ortus heaved his bulk onto the bed beside him, but as he rose the bed suddenly hurtled forward, unbarred. Shaan managed to leap off at the last moment, but Ortus had no such luck. He was thrown to the side where he landed heavily onto the floor beside the now splintered bed. The sword was knocked out of his hands.

Shaan growled in frustration. He tried to reach his large companion, but the hoarde began to ascend the stairs after him, forcing him higher. Down below, a walker, once a halfling, crawled towards Ortus and grabbed his ankle. He tried to wrestle free, but its grip was too tight. Panicing, Ortus reached out at the sword, and once his fingers wrapped around the hilt, he hurled the heavy blade over him and into his attacker.

He hauled himself up and ran towards the doorway out of sight. Shaan turned and fled deeper into the inn's sleeping quarters. He stormed through the first cracked door to his left. The room's far wall was splattered with blood and debris littered the floor. He ran to the far window and tried to open it. It was barred. He tried again in irritation but turned at the sound of growling. A walker, human, lurched towards him. He drew his shortsword and drove it into the creature's eye.

He ran once again into the hallway to see the river of moving corpses emerge from the top of the stairs. He turned and looked down the corridor. There was no garuntee the windows from the other room were also barred, and he certainly didn't have the time to check them all. But the far end of the corridor was one such window, and its shutters were wide open, revealing a shimmering orange haze.

It was a choice between the risk of being burned alive, or eaten alive, and he had to pick very soon. After a few seconds of darting his head back and forth, he sprinted towards the open corridor. Wasting no time, he tossed his pack and sword out the opening and pulled himself through.

He was instantly blast with searing heat as he lowered himself precariously from the outside ledge, hanging by his free hand. His position gave him a view of the inferno sweeping the town. It was uncomfortably close to where he was and he could feel beads of sweat form on his brow from the heat. All because of a single torch, Shaan thought in wonder.

Below him, a small round bush pressed against the wall. It was a long way down. Furthermore the bush that would cushion his fall wasn't very big. Or comfortable.

He took two sharp breaths to steel himself and prepared to let go. This was going to hurt...

A snarl came above him and something grabbed his sleeve. He exclaimed in shock as a walker lunged for his face. Acting on instinct, he shot out the hand that still held his shortsword and lodged it upwards into the creature's jaw. It slumped over and toppled out the window, carrying him with it.

Shaan's stomach lurched as he descended, then landed hard on his side, onto the stone beside the foliage. He grimaced in agony and pounded the ground with his fist, biting back the urge to scream. He remained hunched over with his head on the ground, leg throbbing and numb. He raised his head to see the roaring fire advance toward him. Wincing, he pulled himself up and looked over to the walker splayed in the flattened remains of the shrub, a shortsword lodged in its chin.

"Bastard." Shaan hissed, as he limped over and yanked his sword out. It was bad enough the thing caused him to miss the softer landing, but to land in his stead added insult to quite literal injury.

His leg shot painful barbs every step he took, and sweat fell from his forehead. There was no sign of Ortus, or where he may have gone. He began to worry, and preyed the man was safe. After all, he had the wand.

He hobbled over and gathered his pocessions and made his way away from the enchroaching blaze.

Gelnen pulled on the reins of the grey horse, slowing her to a canter as the large farmhouse drew near. He hoped it was the correct one, or this may end badly. Hells, it could end badly even if it was.

When he was close enough, he dismounted Cherrykeeper, taking yet another nervous glance to the southeast at the smoke rising in the distance, and helped the weakened dwarf down.

Ty-Varaz adjusted his hood and pulled the winter cloak around himself and shuffled after the elf as he walked cautiously towards the door. A single lantern hung on the wall, its light washing over the unassuming double doors. Its eery effect did not put Gelnen's mind at ease. In the centre of the right side was an ornate knocker.

The sun-elf cleared his throat awkwardly. "So... do we knock? It looks like people live here."

Ty-Varaz smiled with grim amusement. "S'pose we're past this stuff. Havin' ta be considerate."

Gelnen gingerly rose a hand to grip the locker.

"Close the gate up when you rode in?"

The voice to his right violently jolted Gelnen into the railing behind him. From the dimness was a short-haired girl in boyish farm clothes who sat in a chair, her knees up to her chin. She looked on in amusement as the elf composed himself.

"Uh, hi. Yes, yes we did close it." He stammered, heart still pounding in his chest. As she unfolded herself from the chair, Gelnen soon recognised her. He cleared his throat to calm his nerves. "Well then, nice to see you again. We met before briefly."

The girl walked up to them, a concerned glance given to at his dwarven friend.

"Look 'ere lass, we came ta help." Ty-Varaz mumbled. "Anythin' we can do?"

He grunted in pain and braced himself against the wall. The farm girl took a weary step back when she saw the bloody cloth wrapped around his arm.

"It's no' a bite." He quickly reassured her. "Cut meself pretty bad though."

She looked between the two, cautious, then relaxed.

"Go on inside." She said. "I'll take your Waterdavian Grey to the stables and fix you something to eat."

Inside, Rillick sat by the bed that held his son. Beside him was Lorelai, as silent as he. On the opposite side of the bed, Herrasil lifted the bandages around Chorrol's chest to remove the leeches underneath.

"Hey."

It was Gelnen's voice. Rillick would be surprised if he weren't so exhausted.

"We're here, okay?"

"Thank you." Said Lorelai quietly.

"Wha'ver ye need." Came Ty-Varaz's voice.

Time trickled by, or so Rillick could assume. He did not noticed nor pay any mind. Soon, Herrasil spoke. His tone grim.

"If they don't return, we will have to make a decision."

"And that is?" Rillick asked.

"Whether to operate on your boy without the aid of magic."

Lorelai leaned back on her chair. "Would that even work?"

Herrasil took his time to answer. "I do not know." He looked up at the two. "But we cannot wait much longer."

Silence blanketed the three. Lorelai stared down at her hands, then abruptly stood up and stormed out of the room, hugging herself tightly. Rillick and Herrasil shared a glance, then Rillick rose shakily to his feet and followed after her.

The forest proved trecherous, especially as dark as it was. Anderea moved slowly along the trail, head bowed low, the only light to guide her was from Dar's lantern which he held up in front of him.

"Do you think we'll find Salpha?" she asked. It was a question she asked herself many times now.

Dar turned his head to her, than shoved the lantern up to her eyes. She recoiled back, shielding her eyes from the blast of light. Dar grunted and swung the lantern onward again.

"You have that look on your face. Same one what everyone else has." He sighed and shook his head. "What is wrong with you people? We only started looking."

Anderea brow knitted quizzically. It had been days at this point. Not necessarily what one would consider 'started looking'.

As if he heard her thoughts, Dar continued. "It's not The Spine of The World. She could be holed up in any number of places what is here in the forest. People get lost and they survive. It happens all the time."

"She's only twelve." Anderea exclaimed.

"Hells. I was younger than her when I got lost. Nine days eating berries, wiping my arse with leaves I'm sure were poisoness."

"They found you."

Dar grunted again and shook his head. "Dear old dad was off with some tavern wench. Mrrl was in the clink a third time that month. Didn't even know I was gone." He fell silent, and Anderea could see his expression darkened. He drew a sharp breath before continuing. "I made my way back though. Went straight to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear."

Anderea considered for a moment. "I guess, but you're-"

"What, a half-orc?"

She flinched, but Dar smiled and shrugged.

"Well, my arse itched something awful."

With no warning, Anderea burst into laughter, then quickly covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry, that's terrible." She pleaded, but however sincere her apology was, she couldn't prevent her giggling from continuing.

Dar joined in with a few low chuckles.

Eventually, Dar looked toward the forest litter covering the trail, and his mood turned serious. He looked up and gazed ahead.

"Race matters little when it comes to staying alive." He explained. "The only true difference is Salpha has people looking out for her." He looked down at Anderea with a hopeful smile. "That I call an advantage."

Rillick stepped out into the cool night breeze and saw Lorelai, her arms crossed, looking up at the stars. Her worn dress rippled where the wind pushed against it. He slowly staggered towards her.

"Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore." She said quietly without turning around.

Rillick stopped a few steps behind her, his approach halted by her comment. He spoke. "Aye, yet we have as such. Chorrol is here in this world now-"

"Maybe he shouldn't be." She said without the smallest gap between his words. "Maybe this is as it should be."

Rillick's breath caught in his throat. He could scarcely believe what he heard.

"You... you cannot believe that!" He exclaimed.

Lorelai spun around and looked him in the eye. Her expression was dead serious, and he could see her eyes were sincere.

His breaths fastened and he took a step back. He swallowed hard. "Okay, I can understand that thought crossing your mind."

"It didn't cross my mind, Rillick." She snapped. "I can't stop thinking about it. Why do we want Chorrol to live in this world? To live this life? So he can see more people be torn apart in front of him? So that he may be hungry and scared for however long before he..." she looked away, her hand covering her mouth. She barely believed what she was saying. Her eyes pinched shut. "So he can run and run, and run and then even if he survives he ends up yet another beast who knows nothing but survival?" She opened her eyes again, they were shot red, and looked Rillick in the eye. "If he... If he dies tonight, it ends for him." She stood silent for a time. Rillick stared at the earth beside him. She choked back her sobs. "Tell me why it would be better another way."

Rillick couldn't bring himself to look up at her. Lorelai pulled her arms tight to her torso.

"What changed?" His voice was dark.

"I'm sorry?"

Rillick looked up at her, his eyes intense. "Jeer offered us a way out. You asked him to let us keep trying." He moved towards her, his anger barely contained. "We even had a chance to leave this realm and remain alive, yet you begged him. 'For as long as we can,' you said." He gritted his teeth. "What changed?"

Lorelai stared into Rillick's fuming eyes. She couldn't blame him for being so angry at her. She was angry at herself.

She drew a shaky breath. "There was a moment the other day... It was but a moment but I thought Ja'qi was still with us, like she just went away on a trip or some such. I turned around, I wanted to ask her what Sigil was like. I almost said her name." Her hands weaved into each other as she began to pace in front of him. "It was but a moment, then I remembered. Then I realised she didn't have to see any of it. That mountain of bodies, the hoardes, Salpha, Chorrol getting shot, she didn't..." she stopped, and pulled her long hair over one shoulder and looked up at the stars. "Whether Jeer's magic worked, or she died entering the rift, she doesn't have to be afraid anymore. Hungry. Angry. It hasn't stopped happening, Rillick. It's like we live with a dagger at our throats every second of every day. But not Ja'qi. Whether the ritual worked or it didn't, either way, she isn't suffering. Not anymore." She looked to the ground at her and Rillick's feet. "Then I thought, maybe Jeer was right. Perhaps a chance, however small, to leave for a new world was worth it."

Rillick watched her, her unshevelled brown hair almost shone in the moonlight. As her words sunk in like a dagger slowly pushed into his heart, he was deep in thought. Then he shook his head.

"I do not accept that. I dare not accept that." He said. "That mage fled. It matters not what he said. None of it." His voice brought a level of disgust. "Do you honestly think it would be better if Chorrol... If we just gave up? Run away like cowards? How do we even know Sigil is a better place?" He let the words sway the small part of him that agreed with her.

Lorelai strode towards him. She stopped inches away and stared up at him, her eyes pleading.

"Tell me why it would be better the other way." She whispered. "I beg you."

Rillick felt his body shake in fear. Hearing his wife, the mother of his son, speak like this, that he should die, terrified him.

But what terrified him most was he couldn't think of why.

The stones of the house were warm as Shaan leant against it as a brace. He lowered to his knees as a group of walkers lurched across the opening of the alleyway beyond. Once they were out of sight, he crept forward onto the hazy street. He coughed as the smoke burned his lungs. He had to get out before the fire consumed him, but with Ortus missing and the wand in his posession, he could not. He had to find him. Though he didn't know how.

A walker that was following the flames was split down the middle by Shaan's greatsword as he limped along in the opposite question. His sleeve pressed against his face, trying to ward off the ever thickening fumes that billowed. Soon he reached an iron bar fence that barred his access. He turned, sweat seeping from his face, to face the five walkers that closed in on him. He backed away until he hit the fence.

A chorus of snarls erupted behind him. Shaan yelled as a pair of rotting arms wrapped around his neck. He wrestled free and staggered back, away from the writhing hands grasping at him. He cursed and turned back around as the others closed on him. He tightened his grip on his sword and prepared for a fight.

The walker closest to him snapped back as the head of an arrow burst from his eye and slumped to the ground. Beyond his attackers, Shaan saw Ortus in the distance, another arrow already nocked, of which he released into another. Shaan's heart leapt with joy and he pushed forward with renewed vigor. He cleaved through the remaining walkers and Ortus rushed to help him.

"Friend, I thought I lost you." He exclaimed.

"That was me last arrow." Said Ortus urgently. "Quickly now. Come on. Come on."

They hobbled along the outside of the fence as the contained walkers grew in number. They both knew the fence would not hold forever.

Rillick sat motionless on the hard wooden floor. His mind was rendered blank from exhaustion. He sat against the corner, his wife on the other side. The air was thick and tense, but neither had the strength to say anything more. Rillick didn't even have the resolve to disagree with Lorelai, though he certainly didn't agree.

From across the room, there was a cough.

Lorelai and Rillick shot to their feet and ran into the bedroom. Herrasil was by Chorrol's side. He was awake.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice shook nervously, eyes darting every direction.

"Hey there, little one." Said Rillick, a wide grin stretched across his face. "That is Serah Herrasil. we're in his house. You had an accident."

Chorrol glanced down at the bandage that coiled around him and back up at Rillick. "It hurts a lot."

Lorelai tenderly stroked his hair. "Oh sweetie, I know. I know."

The boy's face lit up and a fond smile formed, as though he had just remembered something.

"You should've seen it." He said softly.

"What?"

"The deer. It was so pretty, mother." He whispered with a wide smile. "It was so close. I... I've never been..."

His eyes moved away from Lorelai's and stared ahead. The smile on his face faded. All too soon, the joy in everyone's hearts disappeared.

"Chorrol?"

"What's happening?"

Suddenly, Chorrol's body shook uncontrollably. Rillick reeled back in shock and moved to calm his son, but Herrasil pushed him back.

"Don't." He commanded. "It's a seizure."

"You can't stop it?" cried Lorelai.

"He has to go through it." They looked on, horrified as Chorrol writhed and jerked agressively on the bed. Rillick never felt so helpless, but he held on tightly to a distraught Lorelai as he willed himself to remain that way. He knew it was all he could do.

After what seemed like hours, but more accurately a few minutes, Chorrol ceased, and remained still. Herrasil walked over to him and pressed two fingers on the side of his throat. For a second, his eyes flashed green.

"His brain isn't getting enough blood." He said grimly. "His strength is waning. He will need another Drain."

Rillick stepped forward. "Okay, I'm ready."

Herrasil fixed him a stern stare. "If I take any more from you, your constitution will not be high enough to keep you alive. You will die."

"Then drain me."

Rillick turned to his wife, conviction on her face.

"You need the life of kin for it to work, yes? Use me." she added.

"Lorelai, no-"

"You're wasting time." She snapped.

Herrasil gave a sharp nod and approached her.

Shaan's shoulder slammed into a low stone wall, followed shortly, and far from gracefully, by Ortus.

"Come, come. We need out've 'ere." He gasped, breathing heavily. "Jus' lemme catch me breath."

Looking up from the hill they descended, Shaan could see the hoarde emerge from the crest. They numbered, it seemed, in the thousands.

"Come on."

He winced at the shooting pain from his leg. Ortus pushed off the wall and draped the injured man's arm over his shoulders for support, and moved once more.

The night was calm and still, but it did little to calm Dall, as he kept his gaze forward. Behind him came the thuds of someone climbing onto the roof of the cart. He turned as Cralo walked towards him, arms crossed to shield from the cold.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Cralo shook her head in response. "I think I'll wait for them to return. You can go down and rest if you wish."

He smiled. "Perish the thought. We can keep watch together."

Cralo settled onto the roof, her legs crossed, beside Dall. He sat down next to her.

"Which way did they go?" she asked.

Dall pointed in front of them towards the open field that lead to the trees beyond.

"The High Forest. A remnant of the days of yore." He said, staring into the distance. "Back when Faerun was covered in nothing but foliage. It was the birthplace of the elves, so they say. The wood elves make their home there. Or they did, as is now the case."

The underbrush crunched underneath Anderea's feet as she followed Dar along the unmaintained forest trail. Their thoughts wandered amonst the chorus of chirping bugs and distant sounds of nocturnal beasts. They heard a rustling, snapping them to focus. Dar rose his crossbow and they inched forward towards the sound.

They reached a small clearing with an outpost. The glowing remains of a campfire lay in front of a wooden shelter of sticks and leaves. The tree near them shook and trembled. Dar moved towards the tree and angled his lantern upwards.

"What in the blazes?"

Above them was the reanimated remains of a native, suspended in the air by a rope that tightened around its neck. It snarled and swiped in his direction. Anderea exclaimed in horror.

Dar lowered his lantern to the base of the tree. A message was etched into the bark above a dagger embedded into the trunk.

"Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit." Dar couldn't help but laugh a little. "And here I thought wood elves were supposed to be majestic. Orcwit didn't even know enough to go for the head. Turned himself into a big pile of bait. And a mess. You okay?"

Dar turned around. Anderea had doubled over, her hands on her knees.

"Trying not to throw up." She said.

He turned back to the hanged walker. "Go ahead if you must."

"No, I'm fine." She rose. "Let's just talk of something else for a minute." She desperately searched for something, then her eyes fell on his crossbow. "Where did you learn to shoot?"

He shrugged. "Got to eat somehow. That's one thing what these walkers and us have in common. It might be the closest our friend here has been to food since he turned." He wandered closer to it as it growled and writhed in his presence. "Look at him, hanging up there." He looked down at its legs. They were nothing more than bloody bones with strips of flesh hanging from them. He gestured to them. "The other gluttons came and ate all the flesh off his legs-"

He heard her choke behind him as Anderea threw up on the campfire's embers. She glared at him through heavy breaths "I thought we were changing the subject." She growled.

Dar gave himself an inward smile. "Call that revenge for laughing at my itchy arse. Let's head back."

He turned to leave, but Anderea stood her ground, glancing between him and the walker.

"Wait, are you not...?"

Dar stopped, looked up at the suspended, writhing creature, then to her. "No. He's hurting nobody. Not wasting a quarrel neither." He watched as she walked up to it. "He made his choice. Let him hang."

Anderea stopped arms length of the native, who stared down at her, his eyes bore into hers.

"You want to live now, or not?" Dar called behind her.

She stayed silent as his words bore into her like a cold knife pushed slowly into her chest. Her thoughts drifted to the day they left Silverymoon, staring down the infinite abyss as it dragged her towards it. It was a question she has asked herself ever since that moment. She had two chances to escape, and both had failed. If such a rip opened up right now she would throw herself into it without a second glance. At least, she thought she would. Then she thought back to last eve, when the walker grabbed her. Never had she felt so scared in her life.

She watched the native as he growled and flailed at her. Her greatest fear, becoming one of them. To be dead but not at peace, like a neverending restless sleep. The native tried to escape, but the plague denied him, like what Dall had done to her.

"It's just a question." Dar grunted, shoving her back to now.

She whirled around to face him. "An answer for a quarrel. Is this fair?"

Dar looked her in the eye for a moment, then nodded sharply in agreement.

Anderea looked at the earth and took a deep breath as she tried to arrange her thoughts.

"I know not if I want to live or if I have to," she said slowly, "or if it's only a habit."

Dar grunted and pulled the lever on his crossbow. "Not much of an answer." He aimed and shot the native into the side of the head. He slumped and was still. "Waste of a quarrel."

She took one last look at the native, who now hung limp from the rope. She smiled in satisfaction. It was as it should've been.

"Worry not. She is with Dar. If something happens, he can protect her."

Cralo waited for a reply, but got nothing. She turned to Dall, who stood at the edge of the ox cart, the creases on his weathered face were molded into a concerned frown.

"Do you hear what I say?" she called to him.

"My apologies, all I heard was 'if something happens'" Dar replied. He turned and walked up to her and held out his spear for her to take. "Care to keep watch?"

She stared at the weapon, then up at him. "I don't know how to use that."

"I won't be gone long. If you see anything, call out. I'm not going far. I'll hear you."

She gingerly took the spear off him and moved to his position by the crate.

Ty-Varaz cried out as the stinging pain of a needle pierced his flesh. He clenched his jaw.

"You got here right in time." Said Pitra as she carefully pulled the string, pulling the dwarf's flesh together. "This could not go untreated much longer." She hummed in thought. "'Mrrl Dixxiun'." She let the name roll off her tongue like sampling a fine wine. "Sounds orcish. Is that your friend with the potions?"

"No, my lady. Mrrl is no longer among us." Said Gelnen, who had been silent at the doorway until now. In his hands was a mug of tea. "The half-orc, Dar, gave us those. His brother."

Ty-Varaz laughed. "Cannae be sure I'da call 'im a friend. Nngh!"

"He is this day." Pitra muttered, focused on her task. "That potion might've saved your life. You know why he had it?"

Gelnen's tapped his mug in thought with his free hand. "From what Dar said, Mrrl indulged in all manner of narcotics. He had those when it got bad."

Pitra hummed disapprovingly and shook her head. "Normally I wouldn't condone the use of something that valuable on something so trivial, but in this case, his drug problem was the best thing to ever happen to you." She looked up at Ty-Varaz with a warning glare through her lashes. "Don't think this gives you lot my blessing, so you know."

"Ack! I try not ta think aboot it."

With a heavy heart, and a little guilty he couldn't contribute, Gelnen left them to it and headed for the front door.

On the front porch of the Gerron estate, Gelnen collapsed on the nearby chair, exhausted from the mental drain of the last few days. He sat staring across the field for a small time, then leant forward with his hands together.

"You preying?"

The voice slammed into the side of him and almost threw him out of his chair. Grinning with amusment, Magrie sauntered over and jumped up onto the railing.

"Why must you sneak up on people like that?" Gelnen exclaimed between exhasperated breaths.

"You're easy to sneak up on." She answered, then raised an eyebrow. "Are you praying?"

He answered with a small smile and looked down at his hands, grasped together nervously in his lap. "Indeed, I was. Trying to."

She shifted parallel to the railing and pulled her knees up to her chest. "So, who were you praying to? Shevarash? Sehanine Moonbow?"

Gelnen looked up with a confused frown. "Who are they?"

She stared at him with surprise. "Gods of the elven pantheon. You didn't know?"

He pursed his lips together. "I was never part of that lot. I was raised in Neverwinter most of my life."

"My apologies, I didn't mean to assume." Magrie looked at her knees, her hands linked over her ankles. After a few moments of silence she looked up at him again. "You pray a lot?"

"Actually, this is my first try."

Magrie's brows shot upwards. "Ever? Wow, sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your first time."

"I don't even know which god I was praying to. Just whoever bothers to listen, I suppose." He sighed and shrugged. "Probably got the gist and can pass it on to the right one."

"Praying for what?" asked Magrie.

"My friends. They could use all the help about now."

The two fell silent. Magrie watched the elf gazing into the distance, elbows resting in his lap. His jet black hair ruffled very slightly in the breeze. His golden skin almost seemed to glow in the night.

"You think..." he began, but hesitation caught in his throat. He swallowed hard. "You think the gods even care anymore? If ever?"

The back of Magrie's head tavelled backwards until it rested on the post behind her. She gazed at the wall of the house. She said nothing, trying to organise her conflicting emotions into some form of order.

"I've never thought to lose faith in Chuntea." She said at last. "Take that what you will. Lately I've wondered." She faced him again, staring into his silver eyes. "Everything that occured as of late there must have been a lot of praying going on. And it seems quite a number have gone unanswered."

Gelnen's head fell limp, dropping to his chest. He leant back in his chair.

"Thanks." He said, his sarcastic tone deliberately obvious. "This is really helping."

Despite herself, Magrie laughed. "My sincere apologies. Go ahead with whoever you're praying to."

The elf leant forward again, getting into his original position. He stopped, then looked up at her. "You'll watch then?"

Magrie playfully rolled her eyes and jumped off the railing. "How about I get you more tea?"

Gelnen stared down at his steepled fingers as Magrie scooped his mug from the floor and walked away.

"Gelnen?" her voice reached him once again.

He looked up. One half of her was concealed behind the open door. Her expression was serious.

"I know it's not my business, and feel free to pray to any god you wish, but it's you who must make it okay somehow, no matter what happens."

With that, she disappeared fully behind the door, which swung closed, leaving Gelnen alone with his thoughts, and her words that danced among them.

Rillick sat in a chair with a distant gaze. Lorelai lay on the floor, torso draped over his lap, too weak to move, her long brown hair untamed and splayed out in every direction. Her left arm hung lifeless, fingers sweeping the floor in the smallest of circles. Herrasil's magic had left her worse than she imagined. And it was only once. She thought of how many times her husband had the same treatment, and shivered at the thought.

"Ja'qi is alive."

Lorelai craned her head at Rillick's voice. He was smiling, calm, at peace.

Rillick continued. "I choose to believe the ritual worked, and now they live in Sigil. A land beautiful and calm and far away from the horrors of this world. I do, I truly believe this."

She wasn't all that sure what it was that brought Rillick to mention that, but the serenity in his voice warmed her heart. He gently stroked her hair, and Lorelai relaxed under his touch.

"Before it happened, we were standing there in the forest and this deer had crossed our path." He said, tucking her many loose strands of hair over her ear. "I swear to you, it planted itself there and looked Chorrol right in the eye. And I looked at Chorrol looking at the deer, and that deer looking straight back at Chorrol. And that moment just..." He took a shaky breath as the memory hit him in force. "...Slipped away. It slipped away."

She looked back up at him. All the light was gone from his face was gone, replaced by sorrow, so familiar by now. His eyes were clamped shut like someone was cutting into him and he was trying not to cry out. At that moment, Lorelai would've given anything to bring back that happiness he had just moments ago.

But it seemed she didn't need to, for when they opened once more, Rillick's eyes shone with mirth as another memory formed in his mind. "That is what he was talking about when he woke up, not of getting struck down or what happened at the chapel. He talked of something beautiful, something living." He stared ahead with conviction, like he was struck with a revelation. "There is still a life for us, and a place like where Ja'qi now lives. It isn't all death out there. It can't be. We just need to be strong enough, after everything we've seen, to still believe that."

The hope on Rillick's eyes brought Lorelai to tears. She covered her creeping smile with her hand.

"Why is it better for Chorrol to live in this world?" He looked down into her eyes with a triumphant smile. "He talked about the deer, Lorelai. He talked about the deer!"

Lorelai felt a wave of relief wash over her. He did it, she thought. He proved me wrong.

Even though the fire was a fair distance, The sour smoke still drifted around Shaan and Ortus, bringing with it the intense heat.

The air rung with the growls of the dead, growing closer as he and Ortus continued their flight. But they were getting closer. Shaan simply couldn't keep pace, as hard as he tried to drag himself along. His injured leg proved to be more dead weight than his companion, who barely kept up with him able bodied.

"Double back to t' 'orses!" Ortus cried between ragged breaths. Rillick's sword dragged behind him, proving too heavy for him to carry aloft for long.

Shaan faltered and fell to his knees. Pain shot through him as he landed on both.

"Look we won't make it, okay?" he exclaimed.

"Got ta troy, now. Get up, get up!"

Ortus turned back and pulled him to his feet. Shaan pushed him back, jabbing a finger at the bag over the man's shoulder.

"You are to take those and go." He demanded.

"Oi ain't leaving yew be'oind!"

Shaan hammered a fist into the ground and growled, both out of pain and frustration. He was willing to sacrifice himself, become live bait so the pathetic whoreson could get away and save Chorrol, but instead he refused, possibly dooming him.

Seeing no other way, Shaan pulled himself up with Ortus' help and hobbled forward, trying desperately to put distance between him and the walkers.

Herrasil poised a hand over Chorrol, his brow tight with concern. His eyes flashed green for a moment, then he drew a long breath.

"His health is fading faster than either of you can give." He said grimly. "And with the swelling in his chest, we cannot wait much longer or he will simply slip away. Now I need to know right now is if you want me to do this, because I fear your boy is out of time." He fixed Rillick and Lorelai a stern gaze, one that truly captured the gravity of the situation. "You have to make a choice."

Lorelai's voice was but a whisper, pleading. "A choice?"

Herrasil nodded slowly, expression grave.

"A choice." Rillick muttered under his own breath. Almost in an amused tone. The choice to take an incredibly slim chance. It wouldn't be the first time.

He stared motionless at his son's still body, his mind blank, refusing to make the effort. He was exhausted. He couldn't think. All he said and pondered leading up to this moment came collapsing down and he was stricken into silence.

"You have to tell me what it is." He whispered.

Lorelai looked up at him, eyes wide. He then looked up at her, pain burned in his eyes.

"You have to tell me what it is." He said again, a little louder.

She moved up to him and cupped his cheek with a gentle hand. He was shaking, but he leaned into her touch. She took a breath, seeking solace in Rillick's eyes.

"We do it." She said, quickly so as to not give herself the chance to change her mind.

The relief was written in volumes on Rillick's weathered features. But it was quickly replaced with fear and guilt. He pulled Lorelai into an embrace and they both turned to Herrasil, giving him silent permission.

With barely a breath, Herrasil began barking orders, calling for his wife from the other room.

"Okay, let's get the sheets off."

Pitra hurried into the room with a basket filled to the brim with jars and containers in one hand and a lit lantern in the other. She placed both onto the bed and Herrasil dug into the basket, pulling all manner of concoctions and assembling them around Chorrol in an order Rillick couldn't begin to guess.

But the last thing Herrasil lifted from the very bottom of the basket turned Rillick's blood cold. It was a stiletto, thin as wire and so very sharp. He watched in dispair as Herrasil loomed over his son's body, the point angled towards his chest.

"Rillick, Lorelai," he said, "You may want to step out for this."

But Rillick couldn't move, frozen in place. His mind was a battlefield of conflicting thoughts. It was clear the old herbalist knew what he was doing, but to see him, standing over Chorrol, a dagger in his hand, it was all he could do to stop himself from lunging forward.

A sound caught his ears. It was feint, but it was growing louder. His heart whirled in place as he began to recognise the sound. It was unmistakable.

It was the sound of a horse's hooves.

"Gods!" he exclaimed. Any later and his son would've been sliced open.

The horse barely slowed to a trot when Shaan threw himself out of the saddle, wrestling with the burlap sack that contained two items. He bolted for the estate. Rillick burst from the door to meet him halfway, many bodies filed out behind him until everyone was present, except Pitra. He stopped in front of Rillick, breaths no more than ragged wheezes from exhaustion and stress.

"Chorrol." He gasped.

"Barely holding on."

Herrasil looked up at Chivalry, then to Shaan with a hard stare.

"Ortus?"

Shaan averted his eyes, which shone intensly with sorrow and regret. He didn't need to say anything.

"No."

The air was tense as his words sunk in. Everyone stood in an uneasy, melancholy silence, only broken by Shaan's breaths.

Herrasil stared into the horizon, jaw clenched, his expression hard.

"We say nothing to Pitra." He said, anger clear in his voice. "Not until after."

He snatched the bag from Shaan's hand without another word and stormed into the house.

Rillick took a few small steps towards him, looking him in the eye. There was no anger or judgement directed. Simply a silent question. Shaan was rooted to the spot, mouth agape, trying to form words but nothing came out. Next thing he knew he was pulled forward into Rillick's arms. They remained there for a long while until they pulled away.

"They kept barring us at every turn." Said Shaan at last. "And the fire, it was all around us. Then he said... He said said he'd cover me and that I should keep going. So that's what I did. I just... I kept going. But I... I looked back and he... just... I tried."

He put a hand on his shoulder a squeezed firmly. Shaan winced at the touch. "He wanted to make it right."

Footsteps behind her nudged Cralo from her thoughts, but she didn't turn around. It wasn't until Dall stopped beside her did she turn her head. She handed him the spear nestled in her lap and he accepted it. She sat at the edge of the cart, legs dangling lazily over as Dall stood over her, looking to the horizon, watching the flickering light of the lantern hover through the field as it neared.

The small spark of hope that blossomed on Cralo's face was promptly snuffed as the silhoettes of two figures came to focus. Only two. A choke escaped her and she stood up and retreated into the hut without another word. Dall made no move for her, mostly so she didn't see the corners of his own mouth tug slightly to see Anderea unharmed.

He climbed down and moved to greet them as they approached, but was only greeted in kind by ashen faces. Dar fared the worst of all, looking almost as pained as Cralo. He extinguished the light and entered the house without a word. Anderea made to follow, but Dall reached out and caught her arm.

"Anderea. Wait." He said.

She turned, her eyes were tired, but sharp. "What do you want, Dall?"

"To give you this." Dall unhooked something from his belt and held it out to her with both hands. It was her shortsword, fitted into its scabbard.

"I care about you, so I made a choice to you." He paused, gauging her reaction. She made no move to take it, but neither did she protest. He continued, slowly and cautiously. "I know why I did it, but it is not my sword. And the choices I made for you were not mine to make." He paused again, and at last she moved towards him. As the weight of the sword in his hands lifted, so to did the one on his shoulders.

There was a moment of tense silence, one that Dall dispelled with a cough. "I can still ask this, I feel. And this is not to make you feel guilty or to put myself ahead of you." He stared down at his kneading hands. "I can still ask of you, please. Don't make me regret this."

The tension returned, and Dall looked her in the eye, conflicting emotions were visible among them. Finally Anderea turned and stalked towards the ox-cart.

"I'll take watch."

"Do you forgive me for..."

The words burst out of Dall before he could react. They halted Anderea as sure as any hold spell. Though her back was turned, Dall could feel the hot embers that radiated from her. There was no sense to falter now.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked again.

She glanced over her shoulder and to the ground, not looking at him directly, but regarding him nonetheless. Her voice was soft, and showed no further signs of hostility.

"I'm trying."

The air, and perhaps time itself, was still as Gelnen stepped into the kitchen. Magrie sat by the table, tears falling down her cheeks. She didn't look up at his approach, and he wasn't even sure she knew he was there, until she spoke.

"I've known Ortus since I was a girl." Her northern accent was thicker than usual, which amplified the grief in her voice. "He's run this farm since before my mother died."

"Who else?"

She rose her head to look at him.

"Who did you lose?" He felt himself flinch under her gaze, but he willed himself to hold fast, and sat down in the chair opposite her. "You told me I had to make it okay somehow. That's what you've been trying to do, yes? Who else?"

Magrie's eyes clamped shut, her head dropped to her chest. She tried to speak, but only sputters came.

"My stepmother." She could only manage a whisper, and Gelnen had to lean over the table to hear her. "My stepbrother..."

Gelnen leant back in his chair. He didn't want to push further. So he simply sat in silence.

The sound of boot on wood awoke Rillick from the whirlwind that was his mind. Lorelai sat with him on the step, their arms tangled amongst one another. Herrasil walked towards them, his steely gaze unreadable.

"It's done." He said. "We were fortunate there was but one charge left."

"So he's..."

Herrasil smiled. "His wounds are cured. He simply needs rest now."

The good news was so quickly recieved that Rillick barely believed it. After the hardships everyone had gone through, for Herrasil to say his son was healed felt almost anticlimactic. Regardless, Rillick rose to his feet and pulled the gentleman farmer into a tight hug.

He returned the embrace.

He looked to his wife, who had a bright grin that stretched across her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came, as though her smile barred her voice. She brought her hands together and pressed them to her mouth.

"I have no words." She choked out with considerable effort, and joined in the embrace.

"I don't either. I wish I had." Said Herrasil.

The air of joy was all too brief, and disappeared completely the moment he spoke his next words.

"How do I tell Pitra about Ortus?"

The silence that followed was thick. Rillick absent-mindedly played with a frayed edge on his cloak. He sighed deeply and turned to Lorelai.

"You see to Chorrol." He said. "I will go with Herrasil."

Lorelai slipped her hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. They moved towards the house. He held hers as though he would fall into the abyss if he let go, even as they went their separate ways. With arms outstretched, their hands finally parted.

Shaan quietly watched on, using the darkness to distance himself. One hand held Chivalry's reins, while the other stroked the beast's snout. He watched as they entered the house, before leading Chivalry to the stables.

When he returned and entered the estate, his body went rigid when Pitra's mournful cries echoed from the walls. The sound pierced into him and shook his very soul. He tried hard to make himself as small as he could as he crept along the hallway. But from the kitchen, her eyes locked onto his. Both Rillick and Herrasil were there, offering a consoling hand on each shoulder. He swiftly made himself scarce.

He could feel himself changing, every hour that passes he shifted away from who he was before the plague, into someone else. And that someone terrified him.

His mind drifted, feet carrying him through the house, but he knew not where. It was only when he saw Lorelai, kneeling over Chorrol with a wide smile, joyful tears falling down her face, did he come to focus on his surroundings. He lingered at the doorway, his eyes downcast. He wanted nothing more than to surge forward and sweep them both in his arms, to weep for joy with her. But he knew he could not, so he remained, staring down at the floorboards beneath his feet. He could feel her brown eyes on him, and cautiously he looked up. She locked eyes with him, Chorrol's hand held tight in hers.

Shaan swayed between the doorway's threshold, pushing himself to leave. He knew he had to. But he could not.

"Stay."

His eyes grew wide with shock, and the gratitude that followed shortly was beyond words. But he was struck silent, and averted his gaze once again. Though he felt himself relax slightly.

But it didn't remain long. Soon, the longing grew stronger to the point he might shatter. He looked on, the only two things he desired in this world only an arms length, yet impossible to aquire. Soon, that longing warped, forming tendrils of anger that threatened to consume him. His hands curled into tight balls, knuckles growing white. He couldn't bare to look at them any longer, and turned away.

As he wandered the estate, flashes of his escape from Secomber struck him again and again, every moment in excrusiating, vivid detail. The fire consuming all it touched, the unfathomable hoarde of walkers pouring from every direction, he and Ortus struggling in vain to outrun them, and that moment when...

He nearly collided with Magrie as she came into view. The world came back to focus. He found himself in the sitting room. Magrie was in front of him carrying a set of clothes in her arm. She held them out to him.

"I brought you some clothes."

Shaan stared down at them for a moment, then gathered them into his arms. "My thanks."

"The guest room's upstairs." She said. "There's a lake a short walk from here at the edge of the forest eastward if you wish to bathe in the morning." She paused. "I fear they will not fit well. They were Ortus'."

She gave him a smile and disappeared out the door.

Shaan found his way into the guest room. It was spacious, with a number of single beds which lined along each side, separated by a wall. He claimed one close to the far wall, peeling off his armor, but he kept his shirt on. He lay down, falling asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

But his rest was not a peaceful one...

"How many do you think we can take?"

"Oi never thought to ask!"

"We can't outrun them. We have to stand and fight."

"Yew mad? We doie if we do that!"

"We die for sure if we keep running!"

Shaan woke with a start, heart pounding, cold sweat clunging to his brow and torso. He looked around him, taking in where he was. He was in the estate's guestroom, rays of early morning sun descended from the windows. He pulled himself up until he sat. The blanket had ended up around his waist when he awoke.

He looked around the room. Everyone else were still asleep. Good, he thought to himself, and pulled the blanket off the rest of the way.

After gathering his new clothes, a knife, and some soap from the washroom, Shaan crept outside and made the short walk to the lake.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see the lake in question was at the base of a waterfall, It's thundering roar drowned out any other sound. He walked towards it, peeling off his tunic, and looked down at the cut on his shoulder. Dried blood had clotted over it from last night. A sharp sting struck him when he touched it. His hand moved from the wound to the side of his head, running his fingers along the large bald patch there.

Even the thundering roar of the collosal flames couldn't drown out the chorus of snarls of the dead. Ortus heaved the longsword with two hands over his shoulder like an axe, slicing the encroaching walker's head in half. Shaan swung his greatsword crossways, beheading two of his own.

This part of the hoard was at least somewhat manageable. Spread out, and certainly less of them. They had been able to keep their own for now, but the thicker part behind the walkers they were dealing with now were thick and numerous, and there seemed to be no end to them emerging out of the dense smoke of the burning town.

Another went down under Shaan's heavy blade, head split down the middle. He looked over to Ortus driving Rillick's sword through another. As he wrenched it back, it immediately hung limp in his hands, clanging onto the stone. From the look of it, he was almost ready to collapse from exhaustion. The main horde was encroaching on them. They could not hold out much longer.

"We cannort foight much longer!" Ortus yelled.

"I know."

Swinging his sword in a figure-of-eight, he felled two more walkers on either side of him. The exertion did little kindness to his leg. He had to think of a way out of his predicament. He couldn't run, the walkers would swarm him. He couldn't fight back, there were too many. So that was it? Was there no way to escape? Was there no way out?

No. That was unacceptable. He had to survive. He could not let Chorrol die.

He looked over at Ortus, struggling with two walkers, and he saw his oppurtunity.

He pushed his way towards him, his sword swinging upwards through a halfling, then again through one of Ortus' attackers. This allowed Ortus to take down the other. He glanced up at Shaan in thanks.

"I'm sorry."

His greatful expression fell into a quizzical look. Shaan swung his greatsword in a wide arc, and directed it downwards. The edge slammed into Ortus' leg.

The blade tore through flesh, then cut through bone, and flung the now severed limb down the road. Ortus screamed, agony mixed with shock and confusion as he collapsed onto the ground. Shaan moved forward and grabbed the bag that held the wand, but Ortus flailed Rillick's sword at him, hitting him in the shoulder. Though it was merely a glancing blow, it left a gash.

But Shaan barely felt it through the adrenaline and anger. He pulled the bag towards him, but Ortus resisted. He fell backwards onto the stone. Both men wrestled with the bag, driven purely by desparation and panic.

"You will give it!" Shaan yelled. Blood spilled from the cut in his shoulder. "Give it!"

Ortus' screams were now less of pain, and more of fury. He grabbed Shaan by the hair.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

He yanked his head away from the farmer's hand, tearing out a large clump of hair. But Shaan felt no pain. Only rage that burned hotter than the burning town behind them. Free from his grasp, Shaan drove his fist again and again into him, desperate to loosen the man's grip on the bag.

At least, the bag sprung back free of grip, throwing Shaan backwards. He grabbed his greatsword and used it to push himself up. He looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but an army of walkers now but a stones throw away, but already their attention was averted. He turned and limped away. Cries of agony and rending flesh rung out in the night.

The last of his hair drifted down and nestled into the water. Shaan's gaze was transfixed at what was projected before him. Once again, he felt the tendrils of anger surface. But this time Shaan did not fight it. He let it consume him, let it twist and shape and mold him until it was all he was. However, this time, the rage did not burn bright, but was smoldering. Complacent. Lying in wait until it was needed.

When it was over, when he fully embraced that which fought against for so long, he didn't even remember why he did so. But he was done fighting. Again he gazed down into the eyes on the lake's surface.

Shaan had died that night. And from the ashes rose someone stronger.


	4. Embrium

The clouds rolled across the sky, thick enough to block the sun. In the distance a thin layer of smoke rose up to join them. There was a cold breeze in the air, weaving through the fields of long yellow grass that stretched the horizon, carrying their sweet scent.

A wheelbarrow stood near the grand Gerron estate, rocks were placed and thrown into its bowl by the people who busied themselves around it.

As Shaan tossed another rock into the barrow, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Ty-Varaz looked out to the distance. As Shaan followed his gaze he saw a cart trundling along the dirt road that lead to the estate, pulled along by two oxen. In front of them was a large wolf. A figure sat atop the creature, hunched over and holding onto two of the spines that potruded from the thick fur.

There was a collective sigh of relief. The rest of their party has arrived.

Rillick sat forward, elbows digging into his thighs, waiting anxiously as Herrasil stood over his son, his eyes shrouded in green, staring at the still body. Lorelai sat beside him on another chair. Her hand gripped his knee in silent reasurement. The green subsided, and Herrasil looked up, eyes normal once more.

"The fever has gone down." The old healer said.

There was a sound. The faintest grunt, but it was all he and Lorelai needed. They darted forward to their son's side.

"Baby?"

"Chorrol?"

Their words came out almost at the same time.

Chorrol's eyes fluttered open. They flicked between his parents. His voice came out cracked and croaked.

"Salpha?" he said. "Is she okay?"

The words caught in Rillick's throat. He was going to tell him the truth, but something stopped him. He stammered.

"She is well." Was what he managed.

The relieved smile felt worse than the fear and worry he would have felt otherwise. All he could think was what he would say if he found the truth.

"Rest." Lorelai whispered gently. "We'll be right here, okay?"

Chorrol nodded and drifted off to sleep once more. Rillick sat back on his chair, and let out a long breath. The one he held for so long. The crushing weight was now lifted and all was well.

The door rattled and opened. Ty-Varaz poked his head in.

"Thar 'ere."

Soon, everyone converged outside the estate. The Gerrons stood at a safe distance and Rillick saw the faces of his friends and comrades. It was a welcome sight.

He and Lorelai pushed through onto the sizable gap between the two groups. Dall met them on his path.

"How is he?" he asked, wearing a concerned expression.

"He has recovered." Said Lorelai, a smile stretched across her face. "Our eternal gratitude to Herrasil and his people."

"And Shaan." Rillick added. He straightened and looked over to him as he stood awkwardly in the sidelines, and gave him a greatful smile. "We'd have lost Chorrol if not for him."

They shared a hug as Cralo stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Lorelai.

"Ilmater be praised." Breathed Dall over Rillick's shoulder. "We were so worried." They broke away and Dall spoke again. "How did it happen?"

Despite everything, Rillick found he had to try hard to stifle a laugh. He shook his head. "A hunting accident." He lifted his arms loosely in a shrug. "That is all it was. A stupid accident."

The morning passed by quietly with barely a word uttered. Shaan focused his attention fully on collecting as many rocks as he could. The slight wind bit into his shaven head. It would be something he would need to get used to.

Soon they stood on a hill by a large tree, the rocks were arranged in a mound. Beside which was the barrow, rocks still inside ready to join the structure.

Herrasil stood before the others. He wore a simple yet stylish tunic under a brown cloak. He spoke, and as he did so, one by one, people walked forward, took one rock and added it to the pile.

"Blessed be to Chautea, The Great Mother," he began, "who's glimmer gave life to this world and gave us the gift that was our brother Ortus, for his span of years, for his abundance of character."

From the edges of the crowd, Shaan tried to listen, but his ears rung with the echoes of last night. The roar of the fire, the growls of hundreds of undead.

"Ortus, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious commodity. We thank you, Chauntea, for the peace he enjoys in the embrace of the gods."

Images assaulted his mind. Intense head, cold, writhing hands, rotted teeth gnashing, sinking into flesh, tearing...

"Shaan?"

The voice jolted him from his troubled trance. Herrasil looked at him expectantly, as did everyone else.

"Will you speak for Ortus?"

He looked to the ground nervously. "I'm not very skilled in it I'm afraid."

"You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments." Another voice spoke. He looked up. Pitra was turned to him, tears poured from her eyes. "I beg you. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning."

For that there was no doubt. Shaan thought.

For a while he remained silent, eyes trained on him. He tried to speak, the noise of the first word came out garbled, but as soon as he crossed that threshold, the rest came tumbling out.

"We were about to escape. The whole town was in flames, smoke filled the air. I was limping. It was bad. My ankle was swollen something awful." He paused. Again, images struck him, his sword colliding into his leg, the screams of agony and shock and anger as he fell.

"'We must save the boy'." He continued. "See, that's what he said. He gave me the pack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run,' he said. He said, 'I'll take the rear. I'll hold them off as long as I can.' And when I looked back..."

He trailed off, unable to go on. There was a silence that blanketed the group, one of contemplation. He looks up at Pitra, the hurt and despair in her eyes bore into his and he had to wonder if she somehow knew. He tore away, took a breath and limped forward.

"If not for Ortus, I wouldn't be alive. And that speaks true for Chorrol, too. It was Ortus. He saved us both."

He plucked a stone from the barrow. It fit in the palm of his hand. He gazed down at it, unmoving, fingers slowly enveloped around it and he held it tightly. The world melted away as all his focus was directed towards the stone he held.

He looked up and looked Pitra in the eye.

"If any death ever had meaning," he said, "it was his."

He slid the stone neatly in a gap between two others.

...

"How long has this girl been lost?"

Rillick looked up at Herrasil's question, pulled from his thoughts. The morning had weighed heavily, but he focused himself to the present.

"This is the third eve." He said.

He and the gentleman farmer stood at the front porch of the estate. With them were Anderea and Dar and Shaan. He wore his guard captain cloak, the coat of arms, a sailing ship with a red flag, emblazoned on the back.

Mage bounded up to the group holding a large rolled up parchment.

"Map of the Goldenfields and High Forest." She said, rolling out in front of them. "Shows terrain and elevations."

She straightened the parchment onto the floor and placed rocks along the corners to keep it still. Rillick knelt down over it, studying the drawings.

"This is perfect." He said. "At last we can get this organised." He stood up, and the air of authority he exhumed was noticable. "We'll grid this area, start searching in teams."

Herrasil rose his hand out to him. "Not you. Not today." The guard was about to protest, but he continued. "I drained from you a lot of health. you wouldn't reach five minutes hiking the forest without falling unconcious." He turned to Shaan. "And your ankle, push it now, you'll be bedridden a month, no use to anybody."

Dar grunted. "Guess it's just me and Harley." He looked over the map. "We'll backtrack to the river, work our way from there."

"I can still be of use." Said Shaan. "I'll take Highlander back to the village, see if Salpha wandered back."

Rillick looked between all who were present, then to the map. "Right, tomorrow then. We start doing it right."

Shaan looked up at Rillick. "That means we cannot have our people out there and not know how to defend themselves properly. I think we should train them as we've promised."

"I would rather you don't carry weapons on my property." Said Herrasil, glancing between the guardsmen. "We've managed so far without turning this place into an arms camp."

Shaan stared at him in disbelief. He cleared his throat before he could say something unsavoury. "With all due respect, a crowd of those things wandering in here-"

"We are guests here." Rillick interrupted him. His voice stern as he stared him down. "This is your property and we will respect that."

He reached down, untied the belt that held his swords around his waist and placed it onto the map at everyone's feet.

Shaan glared at him, but followed suit with his own swords, dropping them on top of Rillick's. 'Your so called compassion will the death of all of us', he thought.

"First of all we will set camp, find Salpha." He declared.

Shaan drew a sharp breath. "I am loathe to be the one to ask, but somebody has to." He said. "What happens if we find her and she's bitten? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that."

Rillick's eyes narrowed, and it seemed as though he was about to protest, or deny. But he caught himself and instead gave him a hard stare.

"You do what must be done." He said.

Mage looked at the captain, horrified. "And her mother? What would you tell her?"

There was a short pause. Rillick watched her, not sure what to say. Herrasil beside him shot her a warning glance, shaking his head. Across from him Anderea shrugged.

"The truth." She said plainly.

Another pause. This time longer and much heavier.

"I'll gather all the weapons." Said Shaan to Herrasil. "Make sure no one's carrying until we're at the training grounds off site." He thought a moment. "If I may, I do request one bowman on watch. Dall has experience."

The old farmer stared at Shaan, but he did not speak. Though his face said much.

"Our people will feel safer, less inclined to carry a blade." Said Rillick.

Herrasil looked between the two, thoughts fighting in his mind. At last he nodded.

Rillick returned the gesture. "My thanks."

Everyone began to peel away from the gathering to set about their tasks as Mage stepped towards her father. She turned to Rillick.

"The items you brought, got more potions, herbal supplies, anything like that?" she asked him.

"Only what you saw." Anderea answered for him.

Mage looked to her, then back to Herrasil. "Our supplies in that field are meagre. I should ride to town."

"Not the place Shaan went?" Rillick exclaimed.

"Of course not. I speak of Red Larch. There's an apothecary there. Alchemical supplies, as well as some lesser potions are stocked there." She took a breath and her gaze fell onto her father. "I've been there before."

Though Herrasil said nothing the disapproval was evident on his face. But Mage held strong. Quick to quell the threatening drama, Rillick glanced around out along the meadow and saw what he searched for. He sidled up to the old farmer and gestured out from the porch.

"See our companion there, the elf with the shoulder-cloak?" he said, pointing to him in the fields. "That is Gelnen, our rogue, so to speak. I would ask him along to be cautious."

He gave his daughter a lingering appraisal before gesturing to him with his head. In response, Mage nodded sharply and made her way towards the elf.

Trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his hip, Shaan struggled down the steps of the ox cart to the ground below. The oxen were unteathered, grazing in the fields near the cattle.

Lorelai approached him and stopped. She kept her distance, gaging him in silence. Shaan opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. Another pause later he tried again.

"I... hear he woke." He said.

She looked to the ground and smiled. "Aye. He's in and out, but he'll pull through."

He returned the smile. Happiness washed over him.

"That is good." He said quietly.

Soon, their short conversation died and once more they found themselves in uncomfortable silence. With nothing more to say they passed each other, returning to their current tasks.

Before Lorelai could disappear into the ox cart Shaan spun around and called out.

"Did you mean it?"

She stopped in the dorway. "What?"

He began in silence. He drew an encouraging breath. "You said stay. Did you mean it?"

She faltered, surprised at the question.

"Look, if you didn't, then say as such." Shaan replied. "But do it now. I need to know."

She looked away, head down in hesitation. Shaan could swear he could hear the sounds of battle in her mind. Finally she looked up with a resolved frown.

"I meant it."

Almost out of instinct, his feet surged forward. In just a moment Shaan had forgotten everything that had transpired since Rillick's return. Made made to pull her into an embrace, but, though it hurt him more than any number of walker could do, he willed himself to stay.

He gave her a curt nod. "All right then."

For a time Lorelai watched as Shaan walked away. Already she felt the seeds of doubt begin to form. But, regardless of what happened between them was in the past,. The party needed him and, whether he realised it or not, Shaan needed them.

Shaan seemed different from what he was several moons ago, she pondered. She couldn't quite figure it out. Almost like he was... calmer. More in control.

She shrugged it off. It was probably nothing.

Gelnen felt a gentle tap on the shoulder. He turned to see Mage.

"I hear you are swift of foot and know how to get in and out." She said plainly. "I'm going to Red Larch to gather some medicine. Will you join me?"

The elf simply stared blankly at her. She smiled in amusment.

Approaching them from the side, Dall waved to get Mage's attention.

"Miss, might I ask of you the situation of your water?"

She gave him a polite smile and pointed across the field. "Got five wells on our land. The first is nearest the house and the one we mainly use. The second is over yonder. We use it for the cattle, but it's just as pure. Take what you need. There's a rickshaw and buckets behind the house."

Dall bowed his head in thanks and shuffled away, leaving Gelnen with his mouth hanging open as he tried to think of how to respond.

She turned back to him and grinned. "I'll go saddle your horse."

The rolled blanket of weapons landed with a thud onto a large wooden outdoor table. Shaan opened and rolled it out. He looked over their supplies. Two spears, several longswords, an embarrasingly low number of shortswords, everything seemed to be accounted for.

"Give up our weapons?"

He looked up at the voice. Anderea strolled up to him, her sheathed sword loose in her hand. He sighed.

"You heard what Rillick said. We're guests here."

"And you're okay with it?"

His frustration grew. "I do not recall being asked." She was right, of course, but he didn't want to be on the recieving end. "Now lay down your sword."

She gave him a hard stare as she remained rooted to the spot. "You may have no qualms of rolling over, I don't."

He sat down and rubbed his temple. She was the last person he wanted to deal with. "Look, I have to polish and sharpen them anyway. You still want to learn?"

For a time she remained rooted. Eventually she walked over and sat down opposite him.

"Take our your sword."

She did so and Shaan handed her a whetstone. She hovered it over the edge.

"Not there, you'll just blunt it."

She turned the blade to the side and placed the stone onto the steel in the middle. Shaan's gaze was kept on the table as he gathered a sword and another stone for himself.

"From the hilt. Make sure you have even strokes to get a consistant sharpness along the blade."

She shook her head, annoyed at all the things she had forgotten, and set to work. Shaan joined her, the sharp ringing of blade, a sound Anderea had grown accustomed to, filled the silence between them.

Heavy footsteps pushed Rillick out of his thoughts. He was sitting at the front steps of the estate and looked up to see Dar lumber past, crossbow slung over his shoulder, Harley padded alongside him. Rillick jumped to his feet.

"Dar. Will you be well on your own?" he called as he trotted up to him.

He looked down at Harley, then back to him. "I'm not on my own. We'll be back before nightfall."

He made to walk away but Rillick stopped him. "Hey! We have a base now. We can get this search properly organised."

Dar eyed him with narrowed eyes. "There a point to this yammering?"

"The point is you don't owe us anything."

He snorted and pushed past him without saying another word.

Rillick watched in silent as he stalked away. The front door opened and Herrasil made his way towards him with a less than pleased frown creasing his brow. Rillick looked out at his people wandering about in front of them, setting up tents and collecting firewood. He suddenly felt self-concious and turned to the healer.

"We could give you more space." He offered. "Set ourselves by the barn."

Herrasil rose one hand. "No need for that. Better that you stay close to the estate." He looked at him for a moment, then drew a breath. "I don't say this easily, Rillick. We don't normally take in strangers. I cannot have your people thinking this is permenant. Once you and your boy is fit for travel, I expect you'll move on."

He didn't even wait for Rillick to respond. He walked away, leaving Rillick to wrestle with the disappointment he now felt. But reason arrived and he looked over the many people in his party that filled the farmer's fields. Like insects in a pristine garden they found themselves at the Gerrons' doorstep and while all they seek was survival, they were ulimately unwanted. Suffice to say, thought Rillick, it was a reasonable request.

Gelnen leant against a tree atop a small hill looking out across the plain. To one thing specifically.

"Hello farmer's daughter."

The girl Mage was not what would call attractive in the typical sense. The strong arms, short hair and calloused skin made sure of that, not to mention her affinity to wear attire more akin to a man. But Gelnen could not deny that there was a rugged beauty that eminated from her. He smiled to himself as fantasies began to form in his mind.

A cough stabbed his ear and he jolted, clutching the tree trunk for support. The thoughts fled, leaving him with stinging guilt. Lorelai stood behind him with a raised brow. Gelnen felt his face flush deeply. Thankfully, whether she noticed it or cared not to acknowlege it, Lorelai payed him no mind.

"I have your list." She said, handing him a piece of parchment. "There is... something else."

She fished in her pocket and pulled another, smaller piece folded in four. She glanced around her and gave it to him. "It's personal. I would like it if we could be discreet about it."

He looked at her curiously, but nodded. "Of course."

"My thanks."

"Uh... What is it?"

She glared at him. "You're missing the purpose of being discreet, Gelnen."

"Yes. Yes, of course." The elf stammered, tugging nervously on his cloak. "It's just that I need to know where to find it."

She stood silent at him for a moment and looked to her side. She cleared her throat.

"Try feminine hygene."

Gelnen's eyes grew the eyes of saucers and looked to the ground. "Oh. Enough said." He coughed nervously. "Consider it done."

"I'm not weak 'n' I'm no coward."

Dall followed the trail to the well he was directed to. Ty-Varaz was behind him pushing a wheelbarrow of buckets, steel mugs and a rope. He breathed heavily as he trudged. If it were up to him, his dwarven friend would not be afield, but he had insisted with relentless abandon, so he gave in.

"I never said you were." He said as they reached the well.

Ty-Varaz dropped the barrow, talking between his haggard breaths. "Wha I said at tha village, don' know what that was, whar it came from. That wasn't me." He started emptying the wheelbarrow. "If ye may, I'd rather nobody know 'bout tha things I said."

Dall gave him a quizzical look as he scooped a handful of buckets. "Whatever do you mean? I couldn't get a breath from you all day."

He stared at him blankly for a second, then lifted his head and laughed. Dall smiled too as he hefted the rope over his shoulder.

By the time he reached the well Ty-Varaz had simmered and spoke again.

"Say, ya think thar's a hair of a chance we'll find tha lass?"

Dall tied the rope around a bucket and lowered it into the well. "For the first time in my life," he replied, "I'd wager on that hair."

Ty-Varaz wandered up and leant against the stone beside Dall. "Aye. I too." He said "Do wa'ever it takes." He had a mug in his hands, and when Dall pulled the pail to the top he filled it with water. "I dinnae care if I 'ave ta scour tha woods like Drizzt or fetch a pail 'o' water." He lifted the mug as though he were giving a toast. "Do yer part , no bellyachin'. That's wha I always-"

As he raised the mug to his lips Dall slapped it out of his hands. It tumbled into the grass and he stared at it in confusion. He looked up at the old human and saw his feared expression.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you." He said.

They stayed silent, then Ty-Varaz heard it. A sound from underneath.

A group of people marched along the trail to the well, helmed by Ty-Varaz and Dall. Behind them were Gelnen, Lorelai, Anderea and Shaan, as well as Mage, a small bullseye lantern swung from her fingers.

They crowded around the well and Mage directed the focused light of her lantern into the chasm. Two glazed eyes stared back at them. A dwarf stood chest-deep in the water, arms reached out towards them. It was bloated, swollen, creating a lumpy mass of decomposed flesh.

"It appears we have a swimmer on our hands." Muttered Dall.

"How long do you think it's been down there?" Gelnen asked no one in particular.

"Long enough to become aquatic." Said Lorelai, and addressed the group. "We can't leave it in there. The gods only know what it's doing in the water. Or how it got there."

Shaan nodded in agreement. "We need to get it out."

"Tha'll be easy." Said Ty-Varaz. "Get one of our spears, drive it into 'is 'ead." He broke away and headed to the nearby wheelbarrow. "I'll get tha rope."

Anderea stopped him before he could go any further. "A fool's errand. If that thing hasn't tainted the water already, cutting it to ribbons certainly will."

"She speaks true." Said Shaan. "We cannot risk it."

Ty-Varaz regarded the two, then looked away with a concerned expression. "So it 'as ta come out alive?"

Shaan looked down the well and shrugged. "So to speak."

"How do we do that?" asked Gelnen.

Silence desended. The question loomed over everyone.

In the fields far from the estate, Herrasil drove their horses to a halt at the crest of a large hill. The old farmer dismounted Chivalry, his finest steed, and Rillick followed suit, dropping from an unnamed horse he had borrowed. In his hands was a map.

The two knelt down and Rillick unfurled the map onto the ground. Herrasil tapped his finger on the paper.

"The village where you stayed is this one. Yartar." He explained. "As you can see the River Desserin moves south then splits, moving west to the High Forest." He looked up, positioning himself. "We're looking out that way, south-southeast."

Rillick hummed in thought. "We missed this branch of the river entirely. If she went this direction, she'd be miles from where we searched."

"Rillick, take a moment. Come see."

He looked up. Herrasil had his back to him, looking out across the horizon. Curiously he rose, straightened his cloak, and walked to his side.

He looked to see what Herrasil bid him. From their position they could see the whole of the Goldenfields and a painted sky of warm colours by the setting sun. He saw the river as it wound therough the valley to the forest beyond.

"Beautiful, is it not?" said Herrasil quietly beside him. "It's good to slow your steps for an occasional reminder."

He turned to him. "Of what?"

Herrasil shrugged. "Whatever comes to mind. For myself, it is often Chauntea or others from the pantheon."

Rillick tried to suppress a scoff. Unfortunately it didn't go unnoticed.

"You have no thoughts on that?" asked Herrasil.

"Last time I asked the gods for a favour and stopped to admire a view, my son was struck down." He smiled humourously. "I steer clear from those people now. Best we give one another a wide berth."

Herrasil regarded him for a moment, then spoke calmly. "Lorelai told me of your tale, how you aquired the scar about your throat." He smiled warmly. "Yet, somehow, here you stand. Did you not feel the protective embrace of Helm, or Ilmater's healing hands?"

"At that moment?" he shook his head. "No, I did not feel any of them."

"In all the chaos, you found your wife and boy." He said, his smile did not leave him. "Then he was struck down and he survived. Does that tell you nothing?"

Rillick looked at him with furrowed brow, then turned and walked back to the map. "It tells me the gods have an odd sense of humour."

slowly and carefully Dall lowered the thin line down the mouth of the well. At the end of which was a hook that held a chunk of dried meat. Shaan stood beside him with the rope tied into a noose. It hovered in front of the swimmer. But the creature didn't move. He stared up at them through swollen brows.

"He doesn't care for it." Dall said begrudgingly.

"Perraps a bit 'o' dried pork ain't one ta kick 'n' scream when ya try ta eat it." Said Ty-Varaz behind them.

Lorelai stepped forward. "He speaks true. There's a reason the dead didn't rise and start raiding our pantries."

Anderea nodded to herself, then spoke. "We need live bait."

the words hung in the air and everyone fell silent in thought. But those thoughts were shared. It had to be one of them.

Slowly, all eyes drifted to Gelnen.

Testing the security of the rope around his waist for what must've been the tenth time, Gelnen stared down below him, feet dangling over the edge. It was dark but he could see movement below. A lit torch reached the corner of his vision. He took it and looked up at Shaan.

"Have I ever mentioned I like what you did to your hair?" he said, voice shaking despite his humourous tone. "You have a nicely shaped head."

Shaan put his hand on the elf's far shoulder and squeezed firmly. "Worry not, friend. We will get you out of there in one piece."

"Living piece, Shaan. That part is critical." He looked over to Dall, who hammered a small pivot into the earth and looped the rope around it. "Slowly, if you please."

"You're in safe hands." Anderea called out.

Overlooking the ordeal, Mage shook her head. "You people are mad."

Shaan shrugged, arms extended. "You want it out of there or not?"

She simply shook her head again and crossed her arms.

"Give us an eye, Mage." Said Dall as he passed the rope's end to Anderea and Shaan."

She walked over to Gelnen's side. They exchanged a look and she could see the worry in his silver eyes. Without another word, Gelnen slid off the edge and desended into the darkness.

Knuckles whitened as he gripped the rope, holding on for dear life. Angling the torch in his hand downwards, the swimmer appeared it's grotesque face flickering against the dancing flame. It growled and reached out at him. He took a deep breath, trying to stem the rising terror which shadowed him.

Shaan pulled against the rope, guiding it around the pivot inch by inch. The others were behind him doing the same.

"A little lower." Mage called.

Shaan turned back around and looked to the ground. The pivot lodged in the earth had shifted a little. Before he could react further it sprung loose and flung into the air. The rope lurched forward, sending Gelnen straight down.

Panic filled the air.

...

"Get me out of here! Get it off! Get it off!"

Shaan dived for the rope, crashing into the dirt. He pulled against it with all his strength. Soon the others joined him, each clutching it tightly, baring their teeth in strain.

Gelnen kicked and screamed, terror overwhelmed all rational thought. He heard people above calling his name and the creature below him grabbing out at his feet, snarling, growling, gnashing its teeth. He was just above reach. His cries became wimpers.

He felt himself hoisted upwards slowly but surely. After long, agonising minutes he emerged into daylight and collapsed onto the earth, heart pounding in his ears, sucking large clumps of air. A crowd of legs surrounded him but he cared not to acknowlege them.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was calming and guided him back to lucidity.

"Are you okay?" Lorelai asked.

He felt his breathing began to slow and fall back into a consistant flow. He pulled himself onto his knees and sat silent, listening to his heavy breaths. Everyone looked to the ground, no words were uttered.

"Back to the drawing board." Dall said with a sigh.

Gelnen looked up at him. "So you say."

He held aloft the rope. It was taut. Everyone stared at him in shock. He rose to his feet, shoved the end into Dall's hands and staggered away, not wanting to remain any longer.

With naught but the sounds of insects and the crunching of forest litter underfoot, Dar found himself almost serene as he trudged along the outskirts of the High Forest. Harley padded along a few meters from him, tongue hanging loosely from his mouth.

Their journey took them to a clearing which contained a round wooden hut of sticks. He gathered the repeating crossbow from his shoulder and loaded a bolt, pulling on the lever.

The door burst open from Dar's boot and he crept forward, crossbow level with his eye. When it was clear the house was free of hostility he glanced around.

The house was built by and for the wood elves. One large room with all the furnishings one would expect only made from what was found in the forest. A bed flush to the wall, a walk-in patry and a long table in the center. The floor was littered with all manner of items.

Harley lumbered forward and pushed his snout against a jar that had fallen to the floor. Dar followed him and picked it up. It had been used recently.

A light shined behind the half-orc's eyes. He rose to his feet. Salpha was out there. All he had to do was find her. He left the hut and scanned the surrounding treeline.

"Salpha!" he called.

No answer. As Dar suspected, but never hurt to try.

He moved to the center of the clearing, Harley lumbered at his heel. Another glance about yielded no fruit, but he knew she must be somewhere nearby at the very least.

His eyes fell upon a patch of grass near the treeline where red flowers grew. He walked over to them and lowered. It was long with a single circular petal around a deeper red center. Dar recognised the plant. There was quite the tale attached to it.

"Come now lads, almost thar, pull!"

Ty-Varaz stood at the edge of the well, peering down. Given the cut on his arm there was not much he could do. But held tight on the metal pipe in his hand, prepared to strike when the creature was out. Everyone else gripped tight onto the rope, and through gritted teeth, they pulled. One one end the rope was tied to Highlander, Shaan had collected him for this purpose, and the other end was the bloated undead dwarf from inside the well, tied under its arms.

"Come on, you lot," Shaan ordered, "together, pull now!"

Over the stone wall the walker emerged. It snarled and reached out at Ty-Varaz, who took a cautious step back and covered his mouth in disgust. The creature had dark purple veins that bulged from its person and streaks of blood oozed from its mouth and ears.

"Easy now, a li'le more." He said, fighting down his nausea.

But its ascent was halted, teetering on the wall's edge. Everyone heaved on the rope, but the creature didn't budge. Everyone pulled with every ounce of their strength. It moved slightly, it seemed it was free of whatever it was that had held it.

There was a crack, a sickening crunch of flesh and bone being rent. Ty-Varaz watched in horror as the creature was torn in two. The top half lurched forward and dropped into the dirt, entrails whipped about it as it landed in a puddle of its own viscera.

The bottom half plummeted back down into the water below.

The group looked on in silence, stunned with shock and sorrow. The continuous growls of the walker's top half trailed about them.

"We should seal off this well." Dall offered, breaking the heavy silence.

Shaan nodded. "Aye, a sound plan."

"What do we do about-"

There was an angered yell as Ty-Varaz swung the heavy pipe into the walker's head. Again and again he drove it into the creature until the head was rendered a pulpy mass.

He looked up, eyes burning, teeth bared. "Good thing we dinae do somt'n foolish like stab it."

The dark-skinned dwarf threw the pipe to the gorund in disgust and stormed off.

To his side, Gelnen felt a shift of movement. Looking over his shoulder he watched Mage, her arms folded into herself, hurredly walking away. Gelnen watched her for a time, curious. It almost looked like she was fleeing the scene.

The sun dipped low in the sky. Wind whispered through the empty streets of brown, catching against Cralo's battered dress. She stood outside the doors of the tavern, eyes fixed to nothingness, past the abandoned row of houses before her. At the tavern's porch were a collection of foods and rations and a waterskin. The wall, written in charcoal, there was a message.

SALPHA, STAY HERE. WE WILL RETURN HERE EVERY DAY.

Worry, fear, grief, she had felt all these emotions and more. But now she was numb, drained of the strength to feel anything.

She felt the presence of two people approach her from behind. Shaan and Anderea, who had accompanied her back to the village. She already knew what they would say and wanted nothing more than to sink into the earth to free herself from their relentless pity. She had been shown so much comfort and sympathy over the last few moons and she was tired of it all.

"We will return on the morrow." Anderea said quietly as they neared her. "There is always a chance."

"Don't." Her voice was stern despite the softness. "I do not want to hear it anymore, Anderea. Save the thoughts and prayers."

She hadn't bothered to turn around. To acknowlege either of the two. She was so very weary of being hopeful. She had held onto hope for so long now and her grasp was weakening and she had considered simply letting go and allowing herself to plummet.

"You never know, Cralo." Said Shaan, but his mouth snapped shut when she turned and gave him a warning glare.

Minutes turned to hours. The three walked side by side in silence, lost in their own troubled thoughts. They left the village and back to the Goldenfields, but instead of making their way to the manor, Shaan lead the women along a different path, one that lead to large field. In the short distance was a wooden fence with tall weeds coiled around it.

"There is plenty of room here for sword training." Shaan announced. "The suface is flat enough." He turned to Anderea. "This is a good idea."

"Thank you." The half-elf replied with a polite smile. It didn't last long and she quickly grew serious once more. "So, how long before I can wield my sword?"

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves."

"I am not of a patient frame of mind, Shaan. Perhaps you noticed."

Shaan suppressed an irritated sigh. "See here, I am not worried about you offing yourself, even if you have poor Dall soiling his britches as of late." He chuckled when she looked at him with surprise. "Aye, I noticed that too."

Anderea shrugged. "He did come within a few feet of getting sucked into an extraplanar portal because of me, to be fair."

Shaan halted his stride and turned to face her. "I see you have the desire for swordplay, and desire will take you a long way. But there is something you must know."

She knitted her brow wearily. "I am listening."

"Sparring is one thing. Easy to go tow to toe with one who isn't trying to kill you." He began and headed for the fence. Anderea followed. "But taking down an attacker, one who is trying to end you, it is different." His arms draped across the wood as Anderea came to his side. "They say, in that situation, things slow down. Lies. They speed up. Adrenalin can cripple you if you let it. You need to use your instinct. Control your emotions lest they control you, because somebody will perish and you bloody well hope that you're the one to make that decision."

He stared into the horizon as he lost himself in his thoughts.

"How?" Anderea asked. "How does one do that?"

The guard looked to the grass. "You don't think. Only... act. Because, more often than not, somebody else is counting on you. You partner. Your friend."

The two stood in silence for a time. Anderea watched the back of him, the sullen expression on his face. She saw a great deal of pain behind his eyes and she wondered just how much he was truly composed and what was just a facade. An act to follow in Rillick's presence, the one who appeared from nowhere and took his place as leader and shoving Shaan to the outskirts of their heirachy.

She fumed with anger as she stood in silence, awaiting him to begin to talk again.

"There is nothing easy about taking a life." Shaan continued, and turned to look Anderea in the eye. "Ors, gnolls, hobgoblins, it matters not. It is hard no matter who, or what, they are. But once you get it done, you have to forget." He looked once more to the ground with a smile, one devoid of any humour. "I suppose I haven't grasped that part yet."

"But you're getting there." Said Anderea.

The look she gave Shaan told him much. It was hard, almost expectent. A statement, he presumed, not of what was, but what should be.

"I hope so." He replied, then drew a sharp breath and strode away. "This is a good spot. It'll suffice."

The road to Red Larch stretched out before Gelnen. He rode in silence astride Cherrykeeper, Cralo's dapple gray. Beside him was Mage on her favorite steed, Merc, or 'Merc the Stable' as his full name was known. They both wore dark blue travelling cloaks. Gelnen had pulled the hood over his head.

Mage's silence was palpable, she had said not a word on their journey. Though short, Gelnen grew restless.

"I'll have you know, normally this is the king of thing I do on my lonesome." He told her, an unconvincingly confident grin lined his face. "It's the kind of thing I do, see? I'm a 'lone wolf', a rogue, if you will."

He looked oveer to her but she said nothing, only staring ahead at the approaching town. Gelnen looked to the mane of his horse.

'Shut up, Gelnen.' He told himself silently.

He cleared his throat, and the unwanted humour he harboured, and looked to her again. "Are you well?"

No response.

"I saw the look upon your face back at the well." Said Gelnen. "Never seen one killed up close before?" Upon getting no reply, he continued. "I don't why, admittedly, they're just like any other undead, but..." he paused, contemplating. "I suppose, being out on the road, we've gotten a little numb to it. The price one pays when adventuring. Or whatever we're doing these times."

"I suppose so." She said at last.

He was almost shocked to hear her voice again.

The two crossed the town's entrance. It looked very similar to any other town they've seen. Gardens were overgrown, debris and broken carts, crates and furniture littered the streets and the ever present smell of decaying flesh hung in the air.

Mage lead the elf through the empty streets to a two story building and dismounted. The building in question must be the apothecary, so Gelnen guessed. He dropped to the ground and stepped up to the window where a crudely written sign was pressed against it from the inside.

TAKE WHAT YOU NEED AND MAY HELM PROTECT US ALL.

Mage payed it no mind and opened the door.

It was dimly lit inside save for the odd potion or alchemical supply on the otherwise bare shelves. Upturned wooden furniture and broken glass covered the floor.

"I'll see if there are any restoration potions left." Said Mage. "What else is on the list?"

Gelnen fished the paper from his cloak and handed it to her. "Why don't you get started?"

She gave him a quizzical look as she took the list. "What of yourself?"

He shrugged. "I'll look around, see if anything's worth taking. Just general items."

She stared for a time, curious, before departing, sweeping through the shelves with no difficulty leaving Gelnen by his lonesome. Once she was out of sight he pulled the second list from his cloak. The one Lorelai gave him.

He dodged through the isles, glancing up at the shelves' signs. Eventually he found the shelves marked 'feminine hygene' which harboured a scattered number of salves and bundles of edible plants. He looked behind him. Mage had her back to him, looking from the cabinets behind the counter to the list. He looked at the description of the item he was tasked to. It described, rather poetically, a small potion vial of a dark liquid. With luck there was such a potion. Only one as it turned out. It seemed all too easy, but Gelnen wasn't one to complain.

But there was another on the otherwise bare shelves at the bottom rung. This time a light blue. After the concoction he seeked was safely in his pack he knelt down picked it up. There was a label in parchment tied with string to the neck.

It spoke, in an exitable tone, that women who drink it would render them infertile temporarily, allowing them to make love without consequense. It then listed ingrediants that Gelnen never heard of and to advise not taking more than one a week.

He stared at the vial for a time. Thoughts entered his mind. Most included Mage.

"What do you have?"

Mage was now looming over him. Gelnen jumped and quickly stuffed the potion into his pack and out of view. Unfortunately it slipped out of his fingers and rolled along the floor towards her. She bent down to pick it up.

"Er... Nothing! Nothing." He stammered. "As I stated, perfectly normal, everyday, items."

She picked up the vial and studied the label. The next few seconds were agonising. Never had he wished for walkers to barge in and free him of his torment.

When she was done, she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have a lover I know nothing about?"

"Me? No. No."

"I must say, then, you are rather bold."

"I just wanted to know what the potion was is all." He said, stumbling over his words. His eyes widened when her words sunk in. He held out his hands in a warding gesture. "No. No, no, no. I wasn't... I would never..."

She frowned. "Something wrong with me?"

Blood rushed to his cheeks. "No. No, I..." He wiped sweat from his brow. "I would never think... to bed... you." Words came tumbling out of him, desparate to reverse time to the moment before the start of the conversation. To no avail. He sighed in defeat. "I'm... I'm lost."

Mage smiled, amused at Gelnen's flustered antics. She looked down at the vial in her hand and thought a moment. With the realm as it was, would it be so bad? When would another oppurtunity like this present itself? She looked up at Gelnen. Golden skin, jet black hair that tapped against his jawline, piercing silver eyes that seemed to glow beneath his hood, she could do far worse. Besides which, she always found elves to be quite alluring.

Her mind was made up. She pushed the cork with her thumb until it launched into the air. In one swift motion she downed the liquid in two gulps. When the flask was empty she tossed it aside. Gelnen stared at her in shock.

"I'll bed you." She said simply.

If the elf's eyes were wide already, they were positively squinted before she uttered those words.

"Really?" he exclaimed. "Why?"

She ejected a short breath in amusement. "You ask questions?"

Gelnen looked away, aware of this. "True, yet I can't help but wonder."

"In times like these," she said with a shrug of her shoulder, "it isn't as though our options are vast."

She dropped her pack and stepped close to him. He was short than her, the top of his head aligning with her top lip. She brought her hand up to the side of his jaw and pushed the hood angled him upwards until they were but a breath apart.

"And you are not the only one who is lonely." Mage whispered. Her breath hot on Gelnen's lips.

Her voice carried with it a longing, a great sadness. But before Gelnen could think further, Mage closed the gap between them, kissing him gently. It was careful, testing. She pulled back.

She tugged on the strings of her cloak and it slumped to the floor around her feet. She moved to her shirt next, pulling it over her head. Gelnen looked to the floor, not knowing what to do with them. His throat was dry, and his body quivered from fear and anticipation.

By the time he looked up at her she was fully bare. It was then he realised he should probably do the same. with uneasy hands he shed his cloak and shirt. Once he did so Mage pulled him in again, pressing herself against him.

They surrendered to each other.

It was late afternoon. The wind sifted through the acres of grass, carrying with it their smell. Rillick walked by Herrasil's side, their cloaks swayed with their movements as they wondered towards the manor.

Their path lead them past Rillick's party. They walked about carrying on with various tasks. Cralo and Ty-Varaz sat by a small campfire, Shaan was with them continuing his task of maintaining their weapons. Anderea was a short distance from them, filling a trough with water for their oxen. He saw something then. He saw they were more relaxed than he's seen them in a long time. No one felt the need to look over their shoulder. At that moment he knew he had to do something.

"You must reconsider." He said, breaking their silence.

Herrasil turned to him, looking at him quizzically.

"Asking us to leave." Rillick explained, speaking firmly. "You must reconsider. If you saw how it is out there, you wouldn't ask. You are a man of belief. If nothing else, believe my words now."

For a long time, The old farmer simply stared, fingers drumming on the pommel of his walking stick, looking down to the dirt.

"You put me on the spot." He said at last.

Rillick straightened. "I mean to. These people look to me for guidance." He looked out over the field at those that dwelled there. "I wished they didn't, but they do. But I do not ask for them or myself." He turned back to Herrasil. "I ask for my son. After the price your friend Ortus paid, the very least you can do is give some thought."

For a long time, the two stood in silence, high emotions drove their eyes downward.

"You are a plainspoken man." Said Herrasil.

"I am a father." He replied. "He is the reason I don't want to fail." A shadow crossed his weathered face. "I feel I do each passing day." He lowered, sitting at the second step to the house. "I lied to him this morning. I wasn't a big lie, but it was one nonetheless."

Herrasil stood still, brow furrowed in contemplation. He took a step forward, the feint outline of his shadow passed over Rillick.

"My father paid no mind to words of comfort." He said. "He used his fist. He was a loveless, violent drunk and no good to anybody." He straightened and gazed out over the land. Rillick followed suit. "He drove me from my home when I was fifteen. Didn't lay my eyes upon this place for many years to come." He turned back to him, exression serious. "I was not at his deathbed, Rillick I would not grant him that and to this day I do not regret it." He sat down next to Rillick and smiled warmly at him. "Some men do not earn the love of their children. I don't see you having this problem."

Rillick looked into the old man's eyes, touched by his words. But the warmth was soon quashed and he turned serious once more.

"Will you consider my request?"

Herrasil almost seemed disappointed when he uttered those words. He sighed deeply and look ahead. He frowned in contemplation.

"There are aspects to this," he said carefully, "that I cannot and will not reveal." His eyes cast downwards, his mind warring. He nodded slowly, rose to his feet and turned back to Rillick. "But if you and your people respect my rules, I make no promises, but I will consider it. You have my word."

Rillick's heart leapt with joy. The small ember of hope was lit inside. He rose, trying to keep his composure, and offered his hand.

"As you have mine." He said.

They grasped each other firmly by the wrist.

Lorelai lay asleep on the bed, her arms wrapped around her son in a protective and comforting embrace. The taps of boot on wood guided her from sleep and she eased open her eyes. Rillick had entered the room, carrying his cloak, folded neatly in his hands. His face was serious, but soft.

"I shall sit with him." He said.

She planted a kiss on Chorrol's head, untangled herself from him and left the room, only stopping to look back to Rillick, who nodded curtly to assure her all was well.

He lowered into the chair beside Chorrol's sleeping form, his cloak rested in his lap.

There was a distinct scent that followed Mage and Gelnen as they rode back towards the farm. One that was with them ever since they left Red Larch. Mage kept her gaze ahead, trying to keep Gelnen's smug, self-satisfied grin away from the edges of her sight.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Mage stopped him.

"Do not ruin it." She snapped.

She was relieved when his smile wavered, but it was short lived, as it crept back up his face until it returned in full force.

"So it was good." He said in an infuriating coo.

She shut her eyes and tilted her head up in frustration. Indeed, he was compentent enough, a little inexperienced, unsurprisingly, but the journey back had been excrusiating. She wondered if it was worth the trouble.

"It was a one time only." She snapped. "Nothing more."

They dismounted and lead the horses to the paddock. Herrasil met them along the way. Though he tried to hide it, relief was evident on the old farmer's face.

"All is well I hope?" he said as they approached.

"Swell. Nothing happened" Said Mage, passing him without breaking stride.

Mage and Gelnen parted ways as soon as the horses were back home and as Gelnen made his way towards the house, Lorelai marched up to him.

"Do you have it?" she asked, glancing about.

He fished through his pack and pulled out the small potion and gingerly handed it to her. She took it from him and he left without a word. Lorelai watched him leave, the air of discomfort palpable. Something clearly happened to make the young elf flustered so.

The ox cart rocked as something heavy pulled itself inside. Cralo looked up from her sewing to see Dar lumber slowly towards her, gazing in wonder at his surroundings. When before the cart was dishevelled and travel worn, it was now pristine. Clothes were neatly folded, plates and mugs stacked and tucked away, the bedrolls were orderly and neat. Cralo herself sat on one, stitching a tear in one of the blankets.

"I tidied up." She said. "I wanted it to be nice for her." In truth it was something for her hands to do to ward off her restlessness.

"For a moment I thought I wandered into the wrong place." Said Dar, looking about in wonder.

She attempted a smile to little success. She hadn't the strength to. But what came next surprised her.

Dar pulled forth a flower from behind him. It was tall, one bright red petal circled the stem. It was beautiful, but it jarred with the half-orc's broad form.

She stared at it. "A flower?"

"An embrium." He said. "Its scent can cure illness."

She looked up at him, unsure of where this was going. He lowered to one knee and coughed. It seemed it was surprising to Dar too to act like this.

"There is a story about how it was discovered." Dar began hesitantly. "The daughter of a noble family became gravely ill. Their parents tried everything they could to cure her, to no avail. In the end they decided to decorate her bed with these to give her some happiness during the last hours of her life. But the next day she was cured." He sighed, which came out as a deep rumble. "The... allegory is not perfect, but I saw this and the story, it reminded me of your girl."

Cralo looked from the flower to Dar, tears pushing against her eyes like a dam about to burst. She tried to thank him but all she could muster was a squeak. But it was enough for him. He rose and walked away.

At the doorway he turned back to her. "She will really like it here."

With that, he left. Cralo was lonesome once more. She stared at the embrium flower lying on the wooden floor. Much like the people in the story, her hold on hope had begun to wane. But now she knew she couldn't simply give up. She could never do something like that to Salpha.

She picked up the flower and held it tightly in her grasp.

The faint rustling of bedsheets slowly roused Rillick from his slumber. But it was the small voice that followed which opened his eyes.

"Father?"

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Rillick leant forward and smiled. Chorrol stared back at him. His heart swelled with joy.

"Hello there." Rillick whispered.

The joy was short lived. Dread took its place. He was terrified what would happen next, but he knew it must be done.

He coughed. "Chorrol, I spoke of something earlier today about Salpha."

"I know. Mother told me."

All the thoughts in Rillick's mind dissipated, leaving it empty as he struggled to process the information. But soon, he laughed softly.

"And here I was ready to confess." He said, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned serious once more. "I did not mean to lie to you. I just didn't want to concern you. An excuse worthy of the higest of fools but there you have it."

"It's okay." Said Chorrol, then looked to the celing in thought. "Do you think we will find her?"

"I know we will." Rillick replied, then stopped. He had lied enough, so he told himself. "Well, I don't know for certain, but I truly believe it."

His son nodded weakly. He was satisfied with that answer. He studied Rillick for a moment.

"You look tired." He said.

"I feel tired."

They exchanged amused smiles, then, as his eyes passed the scar across Rillick's throat, a thought struck Chorrol. He looked under his covers to the wound on his chest and grinned.

"Hey, I'm like you now." He said exitedly. "We both have battle-scars. That's rather wild."

Rillick grinned himself and nodded. "Aye, though I think your mother would rather we had the same eyes. So lets keep it between us, yes?"

The two were lulled into silence for a time, until Rillick spoke again.

"Since you're in the band, you get to don the cloak." He watched as Chorrol's eyes widened. "Did you not know?"

The child stared as Rillick leant forward and placed the folded cloth onto Chorrol's lap. Chorrol unfurled it, spreading it over him and gazed down at the symbol etched into it. The red-sailed ship out to sea.

"We'll cut it tomorrow so it will fit you. Worry not, the sigil will remain unharmed."

He grinned as he marvelled at it, then looked up at him with a look of concern. "Will you not miss it?"

Rillick lay still for a while. Indeed, he thought, it was proving more difficult to part with it than he planned. He and that cloak had been through a lot together even before the plague. But this was important.

He gave a wide, aching smile. "Perhaps you'll let me borrow it from time to time."

"We can share it."

"Okay, then." He straightened in his chair, as though he was addressing someone important. "Rest well, Chorrol of Balder's Gate."

His words were rewarded with a wide grin. Chorrol found the neckpiece and looped it loosely around him, then drew the cloak around him, enveloping himself in it.

"I love you, father." He said softly.

"I love you." Rillick replied.

Later, Rillick stood in front of the mirror in the guest quarters. His hands gripping the armoire shelf. He pulled back and lifted the chainmail shirt over his head. He folded it and placed it into an open drawer. Next came the swords at his belt. He placed them onto the table. Slowly he stripped each piece of armour. The pieces which, as a whole, represented the captain of the guard.

But he was not captain any longer. That life was gone and though he tried to uphold the values taught to him and that he taught others, the things he had done has been questionable and no doubt he will continue to do more. He didn't want to, but it would be the only way to survive going forward. Therefore he was no longer worthy of wearing the cloak, the symbol of honour, justice and courage.

But Chorrol. If he were to survive to the end then he could still uphold everything the cloak stood for. Now, his survival meant more than merely keeping his son alive and well, as any father would do, but it was to preserve the very thing that keeps them all human.

But, in order to do so, it was time now for the old Rillick Grimoire to be laid to rest so that a new Rillick can rise to take its place. One more adapted to the world they now lived in.

...

Night fell some time after. It was a particularly dark night at that. Lorelai rifled through her bag until she found the small potion from Red Larch and hurried out the door. She passed the Gerrons talking with Rillick and Shaan in the kitchen and exited the manor into the cool night air. The smell of fresh grass rode along the gusts of wind that passed her hair and dress, the small glow of the campfire revealed the silhoetttes of her companions, though she couldn't discern which was which.

She walked past the ox cart, where no doubt Cralo resided, perhaps sleeping, perhaps not. Her path lead her into the paddock. Their personal landmarks grew smaller as she continued to walk through the tall grass. The chattering voices soon grew quiet and she was alone, far from any prying eyes.

She found a hollow log in the field and sat down. She lifted the potion into her lap and stared down at it, remembering what she had heard about.

Said potion allowed the user to hear heartbeats within a certain radius. It was akin to Detect Life, but it was the sounds that one detected instead of sight. Upon hearing this she concluded she had to see if she could get a hold of one. It was popular among women, mostly, hence why it was stocked in that area. She looked about her, ensuring she was far enough away so she wouldn't hear the hearts of the others.

She pulled out the cork and gulped down the liquid. Then she remained still, eyes closed, concentrating. Her heart became louder and louder as the effects kicked in. Soon it thundered like a large beating drum in her ears.

Then, her eyes grew wide, the now empty flask slipped from her grip and disappeared in the grass. Her hands came up to her mouth. Tears poured from her eyes as she struggled to breath through her sobs.

There was another heartbeat, so very faint, but unmistakable.

It was coming from inside her.


	5. Wulgreth Part 1

The night sky was filled with the methodical percussion of footsteps and buzzing voices. People by the hundreds, people from Balder's Gate, Waterdeep and the surrounding villages and towns marched the paved road like a slow-moving river. About them were the guards and militia of the convoy, on horseback leading them along the High Road to Neverwinter.

Among them was Shaan. He swayed in Highlander's saddle behind a single-horse carriage which contained two families, wrapped in cloak and cowl, heads bowed low, silent as they thought of better days.

One was a family Shaan knew well. Lorelai and Chorrol sat opposite another family of mother, daughter and he could see the father in the dark corner on the far side of the vehicle.

"Will we be there soon?" the girl asked as she stared at the wood beneath her.

Her mother looked up at her with a weary smile. "I do not know, child. I do hope so."

Cralo became fast friends with Lorelai the moment they met. In many ways they were very similar and in many ways very different, which aided their fast bond. So too did her daughter Salpha and Chorrol who both sat cross-legged on the floor facing each other.

Then Shaan found himself glancing, every so often, towards Eddard's way. He kept his distance from the others, further back. Beside him was a bulging backpack which he would absentmindedly brush his hand upon, as if he was testing if it was still there.

Something about the man had Shaan on edge. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the way his round face seemed permanently warped into a hateful scowl, or the way his marble-like eyes never strayed from the two women as they made small talk. Most likely it was the way Cralo acted around the man, it set off many warning bells inside his head. Indeed, Shaan's observations brought about some troubling suspicions.

"I'm hungry," said Chorrol, cutting the silence.

"I know, Chorrol," Lorelai sighed, her face ashen. "We all are."

Cralo looked between the two. "How about I fetch him something to eat? We have enough rations to feed a warband."

"I would greatly appreciate it," said Lorelai, surprised at her generosity.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Think nothing of it."

Cralo shuffled towards their pack and reached for it, but as she did so her husband's hand darted out and grabbed her by the wrist. She shriveled under his withering gaze, her head bowed low and she stared at the floor.

"What in the hells do you think you're doing?" he growled.

"The boy hungers," her voice was slight and wavering. "Surely we can spare a small portion."

"Operational security," said Eddard, teeth bared. "How long do you think these will last if you keep running your mouth to everyone we meet?"

His grip on her tightened. It hurt but she fought against herself to hold back her tears. She knew the consequences if she didn't.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I wasn't thinking."

He let go and she slinked away from him to Salpha, sweeping her into her arms, holding her tight.

Lorelai looked on curiously. She didn't hear nor see what had happened. It was too dark and their voices were too hushed. She was about to ask when she noticed the redness of Cralo's eyes as she stole a brief glance towards her. She remained huddled with her daughter and didn't even make eye contact.

Whaever happened it was clear she wasn't getting anywhere with her. She shuffled out of the carriage and onto the ground, slowed her steps until she was at Shaan's side and looked up at him.

"Did Ray make contact yet?"

Shaan's gaze turned into a concerned frown. "Aye, he returned."

"Well, I would hope so."

He shook his head. "You misunderstand. The letter was still around his leg."

Lorelai faltered at Shaan's words and she too formed a look of concern.

"This doesn't bode well," Said Shaan grimly. "I think I will go up the road to see what I can see."

"I'll come with you," said Lorelai and briskly walked to the wagon towards Chorrol.

As she approached Cralo she gave her an apologetic smile. "Eddard must have forgotten the rations but I found these." She held out a hand with a small assortment of dried fruits.

"It's quite alright. If I may ask, do you mind keeping an eye on Chorrol for a time."

She looked over to the child and shook her head. "Not at all."

Lorelai smiled in thanks and turned to Chorrol. "Shaan and I are to scout ahead to see what's ahead."

"I want to go with you."

At that moment Shaan called behind Lorelai's shoulder from atop his horse.

"We'll be back before you know it." He said. "Okay, little one?"

Lorelai backed away and pulled on Shaan's hand to hoist herself into Highlander's saddle. Shaan drove Highlander off the road and up a small bank to the side and cantered to the hill ahead of them.

"Why would they send Ray back without even looking at the letter?" Lorelai questioned.

"I don't know."

"You don't think they're sending people away?"

"They'd have an angry mob on their hands if they try."

Salpha watched the two ride away until they were far enough away. She glanced over to Eddard curled in the far corner then back to Chorrol.

"Your papa's nice," she said.

Chorrol said nothing at first, but realisation dawned on him and he spoke.

"Shaan isn't my father." He looked down. "He's dead."

Salpha stared at him, face ashen, then she too looked down.

From the rise on the side of the road, Shaan and Lorelai watched as two humans broke into a flurry of fists. One was knocked into the side of the cart and the other didn't relent. He drove the man to the ground with blow after blow.

"What do we do?" Lorelai said with desperation. "What do we do?"

But Shaan kept his gaze straight. "We do what Rillick would want us to do. Get you and Chorrol away from here."

But Rillick would never ignore violence so quickly, Lorelai thought. To her relief a pair of cloaked guards pulled the attacker away, so she kept those words in her head.

In the distance came an earsplitting noise. It sounded like colossal strips of cloth being rent and torn to ash, but without damage being done to said cloth. Such a confusing description could only mean one thing.

Shaan drove Highlander to a gallop straight towards the hill. A few others were there, their hands placed over their mouth or dug into their hair. The two dismounted and ran to the crest. There, they saw the perfect view of Neverwinter. But now the city was flanked on all sides by four dark, unfathomably tall towers. Reality twisted around them as they shimmered back into existence.

Shaan knew what they were. Suddenly, Ray's failing to deliver made sense. The arch-mages were here now. And they brought their towers.

The black of night became orange as the sky itself ignited and great pillars of fire spewed from the tops down onto the city.

"By Helm." Shaan breathed. "They're torching the streets."

Around them came feared sobs from the people who watched with them. Lorelai's hands covered her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. Shaan swept her into an embrace as they watched Neverwinter go up in flames.

...

Easing back into the waking world, Lorelai shifted onto her back and stared up at the hanging cloth above her. As consciousness caught up to her she began to hear soft footsteps and the clink of utensils outside. The sun was high at present.

She rose unsteadily until she sat, her poetry book open across her chest slid down and clambered to the floor. She struggled into her battered dress and crawled to the exit.

Dall passed her the moment she stepped outside.

"Morning," he said.

She had to wonder how much morning was left. It seemed the entire party was awake. She made her way over to Cralo, who draped wet clothes along a line between two trees.

"I cannot believe I overslept," Lorelai muttered through her tired haze.

Cralo smiled in response. "You must have needed it. Are you well?"

"Wake me next time, will you?" she joined her in the task, picking up various clothes and draping them over the line. "Especially on laundry day."

"I can manage," said Cralo with a shrug. She thought a moment, then said, "I had an idea I wanted to pass your way."

"What is it?"

"Their big kitchen. I thought it would be ever so nice to cook in a proper place again. I thought we might cook dinner for Herrasil and his family tonight." She gave Lorelai another smile, but it was one that did not reach her eyes. "I'm... trying to find ways to keep my mind occupied."

Lorelai's brow was knitted in concern. She nodded. "After all they have done for us it is the least we can do."

There was a heavy silence as Cralo's fingers knotted together nervously. "I don't suppose you could extend the invitation? It would be better suited coming from you."

She angled her head curiously. "How so?"

"You're Rillick's wife. In a way that makes you his right hand."

Right hand? Cralo made it sound like Rillick was some kind of monarch. Though it was true he frequently offered his decisions and others agreed with them, as was his nature, but Lorelai never considered him with such a mighty title and certainly not herself.

Before she could say anything, the man himself walked by, Shaan trailing close behind.

"Gather around everyone," Shaan called, "we have much ground to cover."

A number of their party gathered around Rillick and Shaan around a wide tree stump as they laid out the maps of both the High Forest and the Goldenfields with stones along the corners. On the ground near where they stood Shaan had laid a number of freshly sharpened longswords.

Before he spoke, Rillick addressed who was present. Shaan sat on a nearby rock that lodged itself in the earth. Dar was left of him, arm rested on the bulk of Harley's torso. Even now the dire wolf's presence unnerved him. To his right was Anderea, arms crossed, wearing a concentrated frown. Lastly was Ty-Varaz and Dall opposite him, intently studying the maps.

"Everyone will take new zones to search this day," Rillick began, the commanding tone in his voice immediately drew each member's attention. "If she walked as far as the hut Dar found, she may have journeyed deeper into the forest beyond our beaten paths."

"I'd like to help."

Another voice cut through the gathering. From the accent, he had an idea of who it was.

He turned. Herrasil's son Gimley approached them, timid and unsure, like the new recruits Rillick would look over back at the guardhouse.

"I know the forest rather well, see?" he added.

Rillick studied him a moment. As did Shaan with a critical eye much harsher than he.

"Is Herrasil okay with this?" he asked, turning back to the young man.

He straightened, seemingly finding some ounce of courage. "Aye, he told me to ask you."

"In that case, you have our thanks."

Shaan turned his gaze back to the map. "Nothing of what Dar told us screams Salpha to my ears. Any number of people could've been in that hut."

"Any number includes her, yes?" Anderea offered none too gently.

Dar gave a low grunt which caught their attention. "Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than so." He held out his hand, positioning it just below his hip.

"We don't know how many natives still live in the forest." Shaan interjected. "If it was a child it could've been one of theirs."

"Or it could be ours," Anderea snapped.

"In any case," Rillick dispelled them with raised palm, "we may recover her trail again."

"There is no 'may' about it." Dar lent forward, his boot pressing against the edge of the stump. "Harley and I will follow the Unicorn Run to the Star Mounts just here, get a lay of the land from above. If she's around there, I'll see her."

"If ye goin that far," said Ty-Varaz in amusement, "ye'll 'ave ta watch fer Wulgreth."

Rillick looked his direction quizzically. "Wulgreth?"

Beside the dwarf, Dall chuckled. "Back at the village, I told him of the lich that dwells in the forest. Legend has it that he was exposed to the raw magic of an arch-wizard and now wanders the forest exacting vengeance on those who wronged him."

"If the walkers weren't enough of a problem." Dar grunted.

Those that had gathered parted to ready themselves. Near he and Shaan, Gimley lent down over the swords to pick one up. Rillick rushed over and quickly snatched his wrist.

"Hey, now." He said. "Have you wielded a blade before?"

Gimly stepped back, confused. "I want one if I'm to join you."

Shaan clapped his shoulder.

"Here, why don't you come to training tomorrow?" he said. "If you're willing."

Having overheard their conversation Anderea sighed reluctantly and walked up to them. "He can come with us for now."

Shaan stepped back and swept his arm in front of him. "He is yours to escort then."

Gimley glanced between the two, unsure of himself. But he followed after the half-elf, his head shyly tucked.

Gelnen sat silent in a chair on the front porch, a lute in his hands, letting out a hum with each pluck of his fingers.

"Nice lute."

He flinched at the sudden voice cutting through his thoughts. Something he thought he'd be used to by now. He looked up and Mage leant her back on the wall of the manor. He stood and placed the instrument where he had been sitting.

"Dall found it in the village." He took a few steps towards her. "You know, it hasn't been a full day yet. Only 12 hours."

She rolled her eyes muttered, "and that's 12 hours I'm never taking back."

Gelnen's face fell. "It wasn't that bad was it?"

"I don't even know if I like you."

"But you're thinking about it. You should."

He lent forward and his hand gingerly touched the wall, darting back from the contact as though it burned his skin. When at last he positioned himself properly in front of her she almost burst out laughing. Strangely enough his display was so endearing it almost worked.

She brushed past him and walked away. She felt his gaze upon her as she did so. She didn't look back.

...

Rillick drew close to the sound of the mallet on nail. As he did his vision parted the tall trees and revealed Shaan stepping back from the trunk of an oak, a piece of red fabric held against it. He turned and walked past him without even a glance.

He stood still, a confused frown creased his brow. Rillick trailed after him, boots crunching on the forest floor and watched his friend as he trudged along in front of him. Something weighed on his mind, that much was clear, but what?

"I don't suppose you recall the tavern wench back in Beregost?" he said. Shaan glanced back at him, clearly baffled with the question. "I know you, Shaan," Rillick explained, "well enough to know there is one sure way to converse with you, and that is to ask you about the belles you lay with back then. I have no desire to, but I will if I must."

There was a lull between them, a pause. Rillick wondered if Shaan would take the bait or not.

"Maerienne," said Shaan at last. "I told you of her?"

Rillick's mouth twitched into a smile. Works like a charm every time, he thought.

"In excruciating detail." He said with a chuckle.

"Excruciating, my arse," said Shaan. "You thrived on such details."

He nodded solemnly. "Aye, I was impressionable. And I may have been living vicariously through you."

Shaan barked a laugh. "Why would you not with my impressive list of conquests?" he sighed fondly. "I was an artist in his prime. A pro- er, prog- what's the word?"

Rillick thought a moment. "Prodigy?"

He considered the word for a time. "Perhaps. Is prodigy what one would call a dashing rogue who ploughed 30-year-olds on the regular?"

Rillick came to a stop. "Wait. What thirty-year-olds were you ploughing?"

"Well, there was that estate owner..."

"Sir Dennel?"

"Lady Kili!" He said in exasperation, trying to wipe the image planted in his mind.

Rillick's eyes widened, then squinted in recollection. "Wasn't she married?"

Shaan's smile widened into a roguish smirk, then turned and continued his trek.

Rillick shook his head. "Now I remember why I never ask you about such things."

"Then let us discuss your love life then?"

He smiled ruefully. "That is a brief conversation I'm afraid. It may already be over."

Shaan frowned in consideration. "That can't be true. What of Hela? Wait, nevermind, that was me too." He pointed at him as a memory dawned. "There was that wood elf. I believe her name was Shalia? The one you lied to me about."

"I never lied about Shalia." Said Rillick with vexation. "I just... culture shock, I suppose."

"Culture shock? I'm not sure there is any race where hugging instantly means sex."

He winced at the memory. "Yes, I am aware of that now."

"I'm pretty sure lots of people hug one another with no lustful implication..."

"I am aware!"

Shaan grinned at Rillick's growing agitation, while Rillick's skin crawled as he was reminded of that day.

Suddenly, like the flame of a candle snuffed by a gust of wind, Shaan's face lost all its light.

He spoke again. His voice was dark. "We shouldn't be talking about such things. That life is gone and all of that which it entailed." He looked over his shoulder at him. "Shalia, Maerienne, Lady Kili. It's as though we've grown old. All the people in our stories are dead."

Shaan's sudden shift tone sent Rillick reeling. He tried in vain holding onto his humour. "We can't simply forget them."

"Abyss we can't." Shaan whirled around to face him. "Faerun is done for. No hero to save us this time. It's hard enough accepting that as is without digging up the past." He stalked towards him, his stride threatening enough Rillick involuntarily stepped back. "It's a narcotic is what it is. Keeps you from seeing things as they truly are and that's dangerous. You have people depending on you."

"You think I don't know this?" Rillick's mouth was open, unable to believe his ears.

Shaan's arms reached out both sides in a shrug. "I don't know. What are we doing." He gestured around him, his fist tightening around the handle of his mallet. "You have every able body at your beck and call out scouring the forest for a little girl we both know is likely dead?"

Clarity reached him then. This was what plagued Shaan's mind.

Rillick took a deep breath. "You think we should abandon the search?" he asked calmly.

"It's not my call, is it?"

"I'm asking."

He stayed silent, eyes burning in his.

"I'm asking." He said again, more forceful.

Shaan spoke, quiet and calm, but the anger was still present. "Survival, Rillick, is making the hard decisions. But you spread us thinner and thinner. I'm trying to save lives and here you are saving cats from trees."

Rillick stepped back and stared in horror. "Is that how you see Salpha? A cat in a tree?"

"Don't you twist my words, friend!" his teeth bared. "How many times will we be sidetracked looking for a missing child, friend?" His finger jabbed at his face. "You have three days. Three days and you look for a body. And that was before." He scoffed. "Do you honestly think we'll just happen on Salpha alive and well?"

"Are you so sure we won't?" Rillick's voice was plain, his own anger began to swell.

Shaan looked at him, considering for a moment. "Are we to be completely honest?" he asked.

"I am counting you to be."

He looked away, nodded to himself, then looked his in the eye. "Facts, my friend. Love or not, Salpha, she only matters as long as she doesn't drag the rest of us down." Shaan observed Rillick's frown deeped and his face darken and sneered. "I thought you wanted honest."

He turned and walked some steps, but stopped as, like a hail of flaming arrows, rage struck him. His free fist slammed into the trunk of a nearby tree and he snapped around to face Rillick again.

"If we had moved on we'd be halfway to Berdusk by now," he spat, "and Chorrol wouldn't have gotten an arrow in his chest! You said so yourself. But here we are, risking lives." He let out a breath, from his throat and through his teeth, to compose himself. "Your own son nearly died. Ortus, he paid the price. What in the nine hells are we still doing this for?"

"I had her hand in mine, Shaan." Rillick shot. "She looked me in the eyes and trusted me. I failed her. If I hadn't she wouldn't be out here." He now talked through clamped teeth. "I think she is still alive and I will not throw her to the wolves so easily."

What drove Shaan to act like he did? Rillick wondered. He watched in bewilderment as he turned and stormed off without another word. What happened to him? What had the plague done to turn him so cold and unfeeling? But soon he thought back over the weeks since their journey, and revelation hit him hard in the chest.

He had always been like this. Cold, distant, angry. But he never saw it until now. He was blind to it, unwilling to face the reality. The reality that Shaan died a long time ago and was replaced with someone very different. But he saw that now, and now everything came into stark contrast.

As he looked back at the man before him, he saw now something lurked behind his eyes. A fire, lying dormant, waiting for the right moment to be unleashed.

Shaan stopped at the crest of a raised area of the ground.

"It's blue. It's Anderea and Ty-Varaz." He looked back at him with Contempt. "Seems we wandered into their area."

...

Each hand held tight a protruding spine from Harley's torso. Dar halted him at the base of a tree where a squirrel hung suspended by an bolt. He wrenched it free and secured both on his person before steering away.

The forest was dense this far in, the sun had a hard time past the tall trees that hung vast canopies, thick branches stretching along like a wide net over Dar's head. About him insects chirped and buzzed in gradually growing volume. Harley's feet crunched on the dried leaves that covered the ground. Dar was filled with the familiar smell of the forest. Bark, grass, leaves, sap, it was as when he walked the High Forest years ago, not all an unfamiliar situation back then. Though he was here willingly now.

They came to a stop at the wall of a sheer cliff. A short distance away was a winding natural trail weaved a way up the mountain. Dar made an educated guess that this was the Star Mounts.

The trail carried him upwards and ever higher. Harley's body swayed and twisted under him with each step, his ear occasionally flicked back as insects attempted to land on it. They continued to ascend until Harley freezed. Fur stood sharp along his back and he omitted a low, warning growl.

The air around them became ice cold. Dar's breath manifested a light fog when he exhaled. He glanced around him, confused. He was no expert but he was sure mountains don't typically become cold so suddenly. As he scanned his surroundings he saw, for just a second, a piece of tattered robe, dark from age, before it disappeared behind a tree. Harley's growls grew slightly in volume.

Ignoring his shaking from the cold, Dar readied his crossbow, pulling down the lever to arm a bolt, and edged forward slowly. He crept towards the area he saw the robe and his knuckles became white as he gripped tightly his weapon.

But nothing was there.

His heart increased its beating and his head darted every way. Harley kept close, teeth bared, just as on edge as he was.

"Salpha!"

He didn't know why he called for her now, but his nerves were on a sword's edge.

"Salpha!" he shouted again.

Harley shot a single viscious bark that startled Dar. But as he turned to see what his companion saw, he caught a glimpse of a hand. Again, it was gone in less than a second, but it was no human hand. It was decayed and shrivelled, long, bony fingers and skin turned to paper. It looked far too old to be any ordinary walker.

Dar kept his grip tight on his crossbow as he inched forward. Harley barked again, snorted and whipped his head. Each agonising step brought with it the crackle of dry leaves under his boot.

He pressed close to the tree the hand disappeared behind and began the excruciating journey around it. His breaths ragged and uneven, heart thundering in his chest, eyes looking all about him. Behind him a twig snapped.

He whirled around in a panic and his vision was filled with two dead, sunken eyes. Then a blinding flash of light.

A great force slammed into him and Dar felt himself be hurled backwards through the air. He hit the ground but momentum carried him onward. He rolled and tumbled down the steep hill, mowing down small bushes and thickets. Sharp sticks and thorns scraped and pierced his skin. He was airborne again as the ground dropped. He braced for the impact of the forest floor below.

Instead, the floor fell away and he plummeted into darkness.


	6. Wulgreth Part 2

There was a cool breeze on the air as Lorelai trudged across the field towards the camp, bucket in hand. She passed Gelnen, who wore the hooded cloak he had when he embarked the previous day. He looked at her with a questioning expression.

"So, are you..."

"Mind your own business, Gelnen," Lorelai snapped.

The waver in her voice was the answer he needed. His eyes widened. "You are pregnant."

She grimaced and when the elf approached her she stepped close to him.

"You must not tell a soul of this, okay?" she hissed.

Gelnen frowned. "You mean you haven't told him yet?"

He turned his attention to over her shoulder. Turning, Lorelai saw who he did. The man himself walked across the field towards them. Shaan strode beside him at arms length and the tension between the two was palpable. Lorelai glanced a warning Gelnen's way and hurried up to her husband. As she did Shaan promptly fled, but not before he and Rillick's eyes locked in deadly gazes.

"Something the matter?" asked Lorelai, a gentle hand on his arm.

Rillick turned his gaze to her, his eyes reflecting anger, disappointment. Betrayal. For just a moment she was terrified he knew what happened between her and Shaan. When he finally spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I had a long talk with Shaan. He wants to abandon the search."

Lorelai held his gaze, expression unreadable. "What do you think?"

"What if it were Chorrol?" he said. "Would you want us to keep looking?"

"If it were Chorrol, yes, I'd want to know one way or another."

Rillick fell silent, as though he were letting his words stew further before he served them. When he spoke, Lorelai caught the waver to his voice, the kind when he is unsure of himself.

"Shaan tells me my good intentions make us weaker, that I can't make the hard decisions for the good of the party."

"They are all hard decisions."

His brow further furrowed, contemplative and conflicted. "I wonder if I hold onto a way of thinking that makes no sense anymore. He tells me he states only the facts, basic survival, how much food, how much water, how much steel." He smiled humourously and shook his head. "It's actually rather simple when you start thinking of life like that."

"Stop."

Lorelai's single word was like a javelin, driving into Rillick with great force. She grabbed him by the sides of his face and held tight.

"Not one of us was prepared to be living as we are. You are making the best decisions you can with the knowlege you pocess." Her eyes blazed a fierce determination. "I see no weakness in that."

"Master Grimoire?"

Another voice struck them. Rillick turned as Lorelai's hands dropped to her sides.

Rillick turned to the voice. Herrasil's younger daughter, Bell, stood nervously some distance away.

"Father wishes to speak with you."

Bell lead Rillick over to a small shelter where Herrasil sat on a stool, an exquisite longbow lay in his lap as he applied oil to the limbs. Bell departed and Rillick approached him.

"When I was in the military, I was an archer," said Herrasil, keeping his gaze on his work. "Before battle we would embed our arrows into the earth for easy access. In order to become an archer we had to loose ten arrows in under a minute."

Rillick had heard of the legendary skills of military bowmen. Worthy of great respect, to be sure.

"You are quite proficient with bow and arrow, I take it?" said Rillick.

"You could say that," He said plainly. "I could loose twenty-one."

The casual delivery of his words had Rillick reeling. Herrasil lifted the longbow to inspect it closely. "Gimley is missing. I don't suppose you know where he is?"

Immediately Rillick felt a creeping dread up his spine. It surely wasn't what he wanted to hear from the man who owned the land where he wanted to stay.

"I was given the impression you knew about that," he said, calm and direct.

"I did not."

"He told me you sent him to us. I took the boy at his word." He winced internally at his own words.

The farmer hummed disapprovingly as he looked over his bow. His calm demeanor had Rillick more on edge than if he were to shout at him.

"Gimley is young," Herrasil continued. "Though he is not my blood I am responsible for him." At last he looked up at him. "Such things must be cleared by me."

Rillick coughed. "It occurs to me we need to work on our communication. What do you suggest?"

"Simple. I control my people, you control yours."

Herrasil looked him in the eye, expression calm, but Rillick couldn't overlook the silent warning that was present. He had failed the old farmer and now he would be a lot more vigilant from now on. Rillick knew Nothing that he could say could change this tear in their trust. One he created. With a single curt nod and not another word, he turned and departed.

...

Echoes of footsteps engulfed the room like a hazed aura in his skull. A sharp rap on stone, slow, rhythmic, methodical. Dar's eyes peeled open.

He lay on his back against a cold floor made from cobblestone. It was dark except for the single beam of late afternoon sunlight, a long skirt that illuminated the middle of an empty room. He couldn't move. Everywhere hurt.

The footsteps grew closer, boots clapped against the floor.

 _Clap. Clap. Clap._

The rhythm slowed, then, with two rapid taps, they stopped and a single voice called out, pinpointed through Dar's ringing ears. It was a voice he recognised all too well.

"What's going on here, then? You taking a nap?"

"A bad piking day, brother." Dar's voice was cracked, his throat dry. It bounced off the walls and traveled far into the blackness.

"Would you like me to get a pillow?" Mrrl said mockingly. "Maybe rub your feet?"

"Plough yourself."

"Seems to me you're the one that's ploughed." Mrrl walked over to his head and knelt down until his face, his green tinted leathery skin and two long teeth potruding from his lower jaw, was all he could see. "All those years trying to make a man of you, this is what I get?" he sneered. "Look at you. Lying on the stone like a long forgotten corpse. You'll die in here, little brother. And for what?"

"A girl." He replied. "A human girl."

"So you like human girls now?" Mrrl laughed.

"Shut your mouth."

He grunted, a low rumble in his chest. "It came to my attention you didn't bother looking for ol' Mrrl no longer."

"I tried to find you, brother."

"My arse you did. You buggered off at a moment's notice."

Dar shook his head, rolling it against the stone. "You buggered off. All you had to do was wait. We went back for you, Rillick and I." He nodded to himself, voice calm. "We did right by you."

"This is the same Rillick that chained me to the fountain?" Mrrl spat. "Forced me to cut off my hand and foot? That what we are talking about?" he rose to his full height. "You his tavern wench now?"

Dar grit his teeth. "I'm nobody's wench."

"You're a disgrace is what you are." He backed away, his feet ringing against the floor once more.

 _Clap. Clap. Clap._

"Playing errand boy for a bunch of do-gooders, tree-huggers and cave trolls. You're nothing but a beast to them. A big dumb brute what will rip someone's arms off if they so much as look at you." He was at Dar's feet now, mouth stretched in a viscous smirk. "'There goes that filthy, stupid half-orc off to break things.' they all say. You know that don't you?" Dar's hands tightened into fists. "I have something for you to hear, brother. One of these days they will drop you to the roadside like you were horse shit." Dar's body jostled as Mrrl kicked at his foot. "They aren't your blood. Hells, if even you had any nuts in that sack of yours you'd go back to your friend Rillick and slit his throat for me." He kicked him again. "Listen to me. Nobody will ever care about you except me, little brother. Nobody would care about a half monster. Nobody ever will."

Dar growled in response. Lies, he thought. Mrrl kicked him again, harder this time.

"Come, get to your feet before I have to kick your teeth in."

Again, his brother's foot connected with his, again, his body jerked at the impact, sending waves of discomfort through him.

He dug deep to find strength and gathered just enough to lift his head. He looked down and spotted a creature kneeling over him, gnawing on his boot.

A wave of adrenaline crashed upon him, fear jolting him to full consciousness. He shot out his other foot, it connected to the side of the walker's head, sending it sprawling back. He skated back and a sharp pain stung his side. When he looked down he saw blood. It seeped through his clothes, marking a crimson cloud around his wound. A bolt was lodged in his side, impaled through his waist.

The walker, once a dwarf, snapped its head to Dar's direction and snarled. His beard was mottled, tangled, barely held to its face. It staggered uneasily towards him, clouded eyes locked onto his with unbridled determination.

Dar grabbed tight the front end of the bolt and pulled. He gritted his teeth against the pain, a cruel, unusual pain as it scraped the inside of his flesh. His attacker stumbled to its feet now and with low stony growls it charged towards him. Dar's hand shot forward as the bolt sprung free. He reached for his crossbow which lay at arms length.

But he wasn't fast enough. The creature leapt forward and landed on top of him. Dar cried out in protest, panic and desperation dictated his actions. One hand siezed the creature by the throat, holding it back by a hair's width. It's rotted teeth clamped and clashed over Dar's eyes, framed by its wiry hair.

The other hand coiled around the crossbow. The moment it did Dar hurled his arm and slammed the butt of his weapon into the side of its head. He heaved himself over and carried it with him. Now straddling the creature he drove his crossbow into it's head again and again until its head was a broken, bloodied mess.

Before Dar could so much as breath was there another growl that covered the dark, empty room. He looked behind him and immediately leapt back as another walker, also dwarven, emerged into the light. He grabbed the bloodied bolt from the floor and loaded it manually, pulling back the string. The second creature was at arms length but Dar pulled the trigger. The bolt ejected with a tail of his own blood and buried into the walker's head.

Dar's arms dropped as soon as the creature did. At last he was able to breathe. High above a series of rapid, high pitched whines echoed in the chamber. He looked up to see the shadow of Harley pacing around the opening. He felt relief wash over him at the sight of his companion. It would be fruitless to climb the way he fell. That only left one option. With that in mind he set to preparation. Harley dashed away out of sight and Dar could only hope he was looking for the entrance. He had heard once before that the bond between man and beast would sever if they were separated for too long.

The meat of the squirrel he had acquired earlier was tasteless and messy but he didn't have the time nor resources to build a fire. It wasn't ideal eating but it was better than travelling on an empty stomach.

At one point in history this underground cavern was inhabited, by dwarves most likely, given the intricate carvings along the wall and his attackers. Fortunately one of the sconces along the wall still held a torch. He lacked flint and steel, but two rocks managed to create enough of a spark for it to catch ablaze.

Then there was the matter of the cavern itself. Dar couldn't gauge how big or complex the structure it would be. Using several strips of fabric from his undertunic, one being used as a tourniquet for his wound, Dar carried out the grisly task of collecting the fingers, toes, ears and even eyes from the corpses and feeding them through braided fabric, crafting necklaces out of the remaining strips which he looped over his head.

Soon enough he was as prepared as he could manage given the circumstances. With torch in hand raised high, crossbow over his shoulder, he began his limp into the black void.

Hours passed. Maybe. It was difficult to tell down here, where the only source of light amidst the thick darkness was a single flame. He reached another crossroads and dropped a ring finger from his necklace onto the ground, picked a direction and continued on. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, walls of cracked stone squeezing either side of Dar as he pressed on, doing what he could to ignore the shooting pain in his side. His ragged footsteps traveled far into the distance and back again, reverberating off the walls.

Soon the pain was too much to bare. He grunted, clutching his side, stopped and leaned against the wall breathing heavily. sweat dripped from his brow and he felt dizzy.

"Please, don't feed the rats."

Mrrl emerged into the light wearing a viscous grin.

"Who knew my brother was such a fop," he sneered. "What's the matter, Lord Darillion? That all you got in you? Throw away your honey cakes and get moving."

"I liked it better when you were missing," he growled.

Mrrl barked a laugh. "Come, come now, don't be like that. I'm on your side."

"Really? Since when?" Dar's voice was none too gentle.

"Since the day you were born, little brother. Somebody had to watch your worthless hide."

"You never cared for me. You talk much but you were never there." He snorted mockingly. "Hells, you're not even here now." He shook his head solemnly. "Some things never change."

There was silence. It was a silence Dar relished, to not hear Mrrl's unending judgement. He pushed off the wall and willed himself to carry on.

"Well, I'll tell you this." Came his voice behind his ear. "When you brought that flee-bitten pup home I wanted to drown it. I was going to."

"You best shut your bloody mouth!"

Dar whirled around, his torch drew an orange streak in the air. His words of ire shouted back at him and carried far into the hallway.

"Or what? You'll shut my mouth for me?"

Mrrl was behind him again. He snapped his head back where he faced before. No one was there.

"I'm not real, remember?"

Then he heard it. In the distance, beyond the inky blackness, A single sharp bark from beyond the blackness. He beamed triumphantly, struck with a new surge of energy. Harley had found the exit and it was nearby. As he journeyed forward he became aware of how quiet his surroundings were. He made a low, rumbling laugh.

"What's the matter?" he muttered with a sneer. "Nothing to say?"

The house was thick with the smell of bread and stew. Herrasil ambled down the hall with curiosity, following the scent to the kitchen. As he neared he heard unfamiliar voices wafting from the room beyond.

"It is just so wonderful to be cooking in a real kitchen again."

"I'm just thrilled we aren't roasting squirrels over a fire for once."

Herrasil's brow knitted deeply. They were the voices of the strangers. Sure enough, two of their women bustled about his kitchen. Bethany and Pitra were there also, laughing and talking with them without a care.

"Thank you Mrs. Gerron," said the bald woman to his wife, "so much for letting us use your house."

His jaw set. It seemed no one could see the danger these people possess. But how could they? They seemed so friendly.

He turned. His eldest brushed past him.

"What is this?" he asked her, voice level but laced with ire.

Mage seemed to pick up on this. "Lorelai and Cralo are to cook dinner tonight," she said.

"This is the first I've heard of it."

She shrugged. "I didn't think it was any cause for concern. They want to thank us for helping them."

"We must set clear boundaries for these people," Herrasil warned. "They're getting a little too comfortable."

She shook her head in disbelief. "It's only dinner, father."

He said nothing, only stared her down.

"What is going on with that elf boy?" he said, catching her off-guard.

Mage started. "Gelnen? A friend."

A faint blush caught Herrasil's eye as she spoke. It was all he needed. His sigh was heavy.

"I would prefer he was not so," he said. "It is already a headache having to chase Gimley and Bell about."

Instead of nervously backing away or bowing her head Mage held her ground and met her father's commanding gaze with her own. "You need not chase me around. I am a girl no longer, father."

Her vigilance caught Herrasil off-guard. He stepped ever forward, looming over his daughter. She did not move. "I am aware. That is why I need you to be the mature one. You know how I feel, don't make things harder than they need to be."

Mage's eyes never strayed from Herrasil's. "I am much too old to be having this conversation."

With that she turned on her heal and marched away.

"Do not get too close to them," Herrasil called out to her. "They will not be around forever."

She was gone without another word.

His brows further furrowed. Hearing Mage talk as she did, it didn't sit well with him. Before the strangers entered into their lives she wouldn't have been so brazen, so disrespectful of his authority. It was clear that the longer they remained the further their family would be torn apart. He could not let that happen and yet it was already starting to occur. Only a few days since their arrival and already the strength of his word waned. It set a dangerous precedent moving forward. These people needed to leave as soon as they could.

Standing on the roof of the ox cart, Anderea stood looking over the fields. In her hand was a bow at the ready, an arrow resting on the string.

"What's with the Cattie Brie act?" Dall called jokingly as he neared.

"I have no desire to wash clothes like some old housewife, Dall," she replied, "I will wield the longbow and keep this camp safe. Do you object?"

The smoldering look Anderea fixed him rendered Dall silent. He continued his way to the cart without a second look.

Inside sat Gelnen, who looked up at him guiltily. He had one of Dall's books in his hands.

"I apologise," he said, "I was going to give it back."

Dall smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, think nothing of it. If I had known the world would end I'd have brought better books."

Gelnen sniffed in amusement and closed the novel. He stared into the cover in thought, a look of consideration and, Dall detected, a hint of embarrassment. He looked up at him.

"Dall, is Anderea on her period?"

An odd choking sound escaped Dall. Instinctively he glanced about the cart, as if to make sure no one heard him. He made an attempt to compose himself and awkwardly cleared his throat. The indignity of the question was not lost on Gelnen, who's face was squished in a combination of embarrassment and regret.

"I ask because it seems like the womenfolk are all acting very strange," he said rapidly. "I don't know much about human... cycles, but I read somewhere that, when they spend a lot of time together, they line up and they get barmy at the same time. From the, you know, hormones."

Dall's voice dropped to a whisper. "It would behoove you to keep that to yourself."

He grinned, though it was more a grimace. "Indeed, that would be best."

"Who precisely is acting strange?" he asked.

"Mage."

"Ah, Mage, I see." All at once everything was made clear. He smiled despite himself. The elf truly was a young man.

Gelnen shook his head and gestured his disbelief with his hands. "She was mean to me, then she wanted to bed me, now she's mean to me again and I don't even want to think about Lorelai."

"Lorelai?" Dall's brow knitted. "What's wrong with Lorelai?"

Glenen's heart skipped a beat. He had not intended to mention her during his ramblings. He looked away and shrugged. "Nothing, I know not."

He narrowed his eyes a moment, but let it be. "Okay, well, let us retrace our steps here. How do you know Mage wants to sleep with you?"

There was silence between them. Gelnen didn't respond, only looked at him with a tight smile. He was about to ask again when realisation struck him in force. His face fell.

"Oh, lad, you did not." The elf began to fidget uncomfortably under his shocked expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose and again glanced around him. "Did it not occur to you how her father might feel about this?"

"She's 22 which I believe is of age for humans."

"Aye, it is, but he is our host!"

"He doesn't know."

"Well, see to it that it stays that way." Dall pressed his fingers to his temples as the beginnings of stress formed between them. "Chauntea preserve you, Gelnen, what were you thinking?"

For whatever reason this struck deep for Gelnen, who gave him a defiant stare.

"I was thinking I may perish tomorrow," he said with a level voice, but the venom was palpable. He pushed past him, smacking the novel onto the bench. "Thank you for the book. You were right, it is dire."

Dall stared after him as he stormed out of the cart. Though he did not approve of the elf's actions he couldn't help feel a tinge of guilt for his outburst.

"Walker. Walker!"

Anderea's voice halted any more time to reflect on what happened. He raced out the door and down the steps as Rillick, ever quick to respond, ran up to them.

"Only one?" Rillick called.

In the far distance, emerging from the treeline, was a limping, shambling figure. Even from here Anderea could see the blood that soaked its shirt.

"I can stick it from here," she cried.

"No, Anderea," Rillick snapped. "Lower your bow."

Two other men rallied behind him, Shaan and Ty-Varaz, swords in hand.

"You best let us handle this," said Shaan.

He started down the road but Rillick held his hand out to stop him.

"Hold a moment, Shaan," said Rillick. "Herrasil told us he will handle the walkers."

He shrugged off his friend's hand. "What ever for? We are more than equipped to handle this ourselves."

Before Rillick could stop him Shaan and Ty-Varaz swept past him and down the hill. He cursed under his breath, ran to retrieve his sword and raced to follow them.

Anderea watched the three men, sword and axe in hand, as they charged down the field. Why did they order her down? Did they not trust her skills? With the rest of the party's womenfolk taking up frying pan and washboard did they consider her a lesser fighter because she was one of them?

Damn them, she thought, damn them all and damn Lorelai and Cralo for strengthening this perception. She would have none of it. She looked down at the longbow in her hand, the broadhead in the other. She would show them, prove to them all that she was just as good in combat as those that raced across the field to meet the threat.

She nocked the arrow and pulled back the string.

"Anderea, don't," Dall warned.

"Step aside, Dall," she snapped.

If she could strike the creature from such a distance then she would gain their respect, their admiration. They would have no choice but to consider her their equal.

Adjusting for height, adjusting for wind...

Rillick tore across the plain, wind battered against his face, the long grass trampled under his boot. He neared the walker, its clothing and face caked in blood but he could see that it was a half-orc.

He slowed to a jog and stopped, as did the creature. Realisation dawned on him.

"Is that Dar?" Ty-Varaz asked in wonderment behind him.

Sure enough, the half-orc limped towards them and they gaped in shock. He grinned briefly through heavy breaths as Rillick realised he held the blade of his sword at him.

"How many times have you brandished that thing at me now?" Dar growled breathlessly. "Will you finally run me through this time?"

Slightly embarrassed, Rillick lowered his sword.

There was a sharp hiss next to his ear and all of a sudden Dar collapsed, an arrow lodged in his head.

She did it. a solid hit. Anderea beamed triumphantly. Let us see what they think about that?

"No!"

Rillick's enraged cry exploded in the air. Though it was far, the full force was not lost on her.

She frowned in confusion. Why was she angered? But her face fell as another creature bounded out of the forest and her stomach knotted in her torso.

"It was a jest, just a jest."

Dar's words were slurred and delirious. The shaft of an arrow had impaled the side of his head. Harley was nearby, filling the air with barks of rage and desperation. Shaan and Rillick rushed to his side and hoisted him up by the arms. His mumbled ramblings trailed off and he went limp and the dead weight made it impossible to carry. Harley bounded over and nuzzled Dar's hand, a deep, worried growl shook in his throat. Ty-Varaz also joined, adding his dwarven strength to the task. Together the three managed to haul Dar's body onto the wolf's back and they ran back to the camp.

Anderea charged towards them, tears streaming from her eyes.

"Is he dead?" she cried. "Ilmater's light, please tell me it isn't so!"

"Unconscious," said Rillick. "The arrow missed the brain."

They passed Gelnen, eyes wide in shock and fear as he looked down at the half-orc, his torn, blood-soaked clothes and skin covered in cuts and scratches, a bloodied piece of cloth wrapped around his waist.

"Look at him," he exclaimed. "He... he's wearing ears and... is that toes?"

Rillick swiftly removed the grizzly necklace and stuffed it in his pocket. "Let us keep that between us."

"What in the blazes is going on here?!"

The commanding voice of the old farmer halted any further discussion. Herrasil approached them in a hastened stride, come to investigate the noise the wolf had caused. Behind him was Lorelai and Cralo, their hands clasped over their mouths as they saw them and Harley near them. Their gaze drawn to the point of the arrow which sprouted from Dar's head, blood dripping from the tip.

There was no need for explanation. Herrasil ushered them all back to the estate.

Hours passed by in a haze, a blur of motion and the sweet aromas of herbs crushed under mortar and pestle. Herrasil worked tirelessly attending to Dar, Rillick with him every step of the way. He had proved to be a boon in the extraction of the arrow, following his instructions without hesitation. He was a guard, after all, thus he would have some skill in healing such injuries. Indeed, he seemed much more level headed this time around.

Nearing sunset, the two sat either side of the bed, a candle lit on the table provided some light in the room. The procedure, though looking dire, was simple enough. The arrow was removed with little complication and a Minor Wound cure applied directly to the damaged parts of the skull. Though not enough to heal fully, it sealed the fractures well enough to prevent further damage. Dar was awake now, head wrapped in a bandage, speaking softly of his findings while Herrasil stood over the half-orc, his hand hovering over his raked body radiating a blue light that removed the many scrapes and scratches it passed over. He spoke of his adventure, of the strange creature that attacked him, of the maze of caverns he had fallen into. More importantly, however, was what he had found on his way back.

Dar had passed a small stream that tumbled down the steep hills of the Star Mounts. Rocks protruded from the surface and mist formed where the water battered it. Coiled around the point of one of the rocks was a strip of fabric. On closer inspection the fabric was that of a dress, fabric not found on the garments of the natives.

He held it up to them so they could inspect it. Rillick took it in his hands, running his thumb over the soft surface.

"It must have torn off when she crossed the stream," said Dar.

A hopeful smile emerged on Rillick's face. "This cuts the grid almost by half."

Dar watched the human gaze down at the cloth, completely absorbed in it. He snorted, a little vexed. "No need to thank me or anything."

He didn't seem to notice. He looked up at Herrasil with renewed energy. "How does he seem?"

Looking over to him, Herrasil gave a nod, though his expression was not one of joy. the darkness in his eyes revealed to Rillick a hint of resentment before he looked away.

Lorelai's back pressed against the wall. A chair stood opposite her. It was a sturdy looking chair, comfortable, even, most likely moreso than the hard wooden floor she found herself on. but she had opted for the floor and she couldn't find the strength to switch.

The door opened and Rillick emerged. She jumped to her feet.

"He will be okay," he said before she could ask.

Relief washed over her but she tensed again as Shaan approached them.

"I am loathe to say this but we cannot keep going out there," he said, "not after this."

"You would turn away now?" Rillick retorted. "Dar risked his life for the first shred of proper evidence we've ever had."

Shaan smiled humourously, or perhaps, Rillick observed, it was patronising. "That is one way to see it. The way I see it Dar almost lost his life for a shred of fabric that we don't even know it was from this child."

He nodded to himself, staring at the ground. Maybe at one point Shaan's words would have illicited a stronger reaction from Rillick. Now the man's true nature reared itself he felt little surprise.

"Aye, I know how you may see it." Without another word he left. Shaan turned to Lorelai who watched him wearily.

"I have no pleasure from being the rotten one here," he said. "I am simply being realistic. You know I speak the truth."

Lorelai's arms crossed her breast. Her gaze did not leave him. She kept her mouth shut though every part of her longed to speak, to put him in his place and leave him choking on his own words. But she knew he would not do this, he was much too stubborn and the way he looked at her meant he was waiting for a response. There was no benefit to arguing with him so she stood her ground, willing herself not to speak a word.

He turned to leave.

"I may not agree with all his choices but I respect him," Lorelai called to his back. The temptation was too strong and she already knew this would not end peacefully. "I know yours and your way isn't harder. It would be so very easy to cut our losses and flee, to not help. You keep telling yourself that you make the difficult decisions but you're only trying to justify..."

"All I care about in this accursed world is you and Chorrol," he shot, cutting her off. "I apologise if I appear to be insensitive to the needs of others but, you see, I will do whatever I must to keep you two safe."

The pause in the conversation was exquisitely timed.

"Even abandoning a lost child?"

"Aye."

Her eyes widened at Shaan's response. She looked into his eyes but she could not find a hint of insincerity. She stepped back, horrified.

But that horror did not last long for soon it twisted into anger. It was though a fire lit behind her eyes of soft brown. She grimaced.

"My son and I are not your problem anymore," she spat. "Or your excuse."

She pushed past him and followed after her husband.

The sun dipped low over the horizon painting the sky in vibrant orange. A strong breeze wafted through the vast expanse of grass, glowing under the soft sunlight. From every side of the estate crickets chirped merrily mixing with the occasional noise of sheep, horse or cattle.

On the steps of the front porch Anderea sat, knees held to her breast, staring at the ground, wishing she could disappear inside it and become one with the fields so peaceful compared to everywhere else. Beside her came the sounds of Dar's wolf pacing back and forth, making a series of rapid sharp whines. His tongue hung from his mouth and occasionally rolled across his mouth. Whenever he got near or their eyes met she heard a faint rumbling growl coming from deep within him. She couldn't blame him for his anger towards her, how could she? But it was more salt on an already grievous wound.

The door opened and she started, looking behind her to see Dall as he struggled down to sit next to her.

"How is he?" her voice was quiet from fatigue.

"It looked gruesome but it wasn't as dire as everyone feared. He will be well." He turned to her. "What of yourself?"

"I think you should ask Harley that question," she said, gesturing to the wolf. "He's taking it harder than any of us." She stared across at her hands knotting together. "He hates me. Understandable, to he I killed Dar."

Dall looked between her and Harley. "You are too hard on yourself." He then grumbled under his breath, "We've all wanted to kill Dar."

Hearing the last part made Anderea involuntarily snuff a breath of air in amusement. She turned to him and smiled, struck with a great love for the old man. He smiled back, a warm smile that reassured all will be okay. As those around them whose faces grew darker and colder Dall's showed nothing but kindness.

Perhaps he is right, she thought to herself, perhaps, for this very moment, all would be well.

The clink of utensil on plate added to the uncomfortable silence that Rillick and Herrasil and those that sat among them found themselves a victim of. Though it was universally agreed the food was delicious hesitation followed every bite.

Herrasil sat at the head, peering down the table where the strangers sat on either side. The leader, Rillick, would occasionally look up to his friend Shaan with, what he observed as, an eye of caution. Dall was the closest of these folk to him, sitting opposite his wife, and what he considered the only decent sort. With the sheer number of people present Herrasil had to set a second table, a smaller one, round in shape. He opted to have their youngest to sit there. His children, Mage, Bell, Gimley, and the elf, who's wandering eyes would glance over to his eldest. The action set his nerves on end.

The night wore on and folks were halfway through their roast. He feared for what might happen if they refused to leave. To them this was a paradise. Why would they want to so readily?

"Anyone here know how to play the lute?" Gelnen spoke, his voice almost otherworldly after such a long period of silence.

No one answered.

"Dall found a nice one. Surely someone knows how to play."

"Ortus did." Pitra stared down at her almost empty plate, face ashen.

Despite how he felt about the young elf Herrasil was grateful he tried to ease the tension if even a little. He decided to aid him. "Yes, indeed, and a fine player he was. He taught Bell for a time."

Bell shrugged timidly, head kept bowed and focused on her plate. "I'm not very good at it."

The brief conversation trailed off and all too soon the unease returned. Gelnen's attempt to lighten the tension was in vain. Disappointed, he turned back around only to see Mage look him in the eyes. She pushed something into his hand from beneath the table. A scrap of paper. He opened it in his lap despite her eyes shouting at him to cease and wait.

'2 hours left. Tonight where?'

His mouth stretched into a wide, obvious, smile and he began to write something underneath. Mage's attempts to stop him were in vain as he hastily scribbled for all to see, too wrapped up in his own excitement, seemingly deaf to the rustling sound of paper that rung like a gong in the silence. He tried to hide his actions but his stealth was akin to a thief in a theatre play for children. Her siblings looked curiously between she and Gelnen and her face grew bright red. He subtly, what he would consider anyway, passed it back to her and she quickly shoved it in her pocket giving quick warding smiles to her siblings. She went back to her food, eating away her embarrassment and ignoring her father's piercing stare from the large table.

The door opened and the light of a candle poured into the dimly lit room. Dar rolled onto his back as Cralo entered the room. He quickly pulled the sheet over his bare chest.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"As good as I look," he grunted.

"I brought you dinner. You must be starving."

Dar looked over at the tray in her hands which held a plate of roast meat and a mug of wine. He shared a brief smile and a nod of thanks, too tired to talk.

Now that the instincts of basic survival had worn off he was left shaken by the events that occurred. Was that really Wulgreth, the lich in Dall's tale? Then there was Mrrl, though only a manifestation of an addled mind his words troubled him greatly. He found himself tense in Cralo's presence and indeed anyone else who entered. He had noticed their looks before, nervous as he approached them, or fidgeting when he stood close to them. They would look at his skin, grey and a far cry from the soft silk of that of a human. They would steal glances at his flat nose or his tooth, the point just visible over his bottom lip. He had heard the comments before but he paid them no mind, even relished in it. But now, to remember the sidelong glances and the berths they gave him just a little wider than the rest, it cut him deeper than ever before.

It was clear to him then that Mrrl, or whoever it was that told him of this, was right.

His mind was such a storm that he did not notice Cralo lean over him until he felt her lips press against him, warm and soft on his cheekbone. She lingered for a few long seconds before she retreated back. He looked back at her with surprise.

"I hope you are well soon," she said, looking down timidly. "Harley worries greatly for you."

She made to leave but stopped at the doorway. After some hesitation she turned to him. "You need to hear this," she said, her expression serious yet soft. "You did more for my little girl today than her own father did his entire life."

Cralo had sensed something in Dar. Self-doubt, something she was very familiar with and it broke her heart to see him struggle with what plagued her own life for so long.

Dar stared ahead with a blank expression then shrugged halfheartedly. "I did nothing what Rillick and Shaan wouldn't have done."

"I know." She smiled. "You are every bit as good as them."

As quickly as she could without drawing attention, more attention, Mage carried a stack of plates out of the kitchen and to a corner away from prying eyes. Placing the heavy burden onto a cabinet shelf she pulled out the crumpled parchment from her pocket, straightened it out and read the messy handwriting.

Her blood turned to ice.

'Ever done it in a haystack?'

She bolted out the door.

Gelnen trudged across the dewed field toward the large barn down the hill, lantern in hand and blanket tucked under his arm, smiling to himself. He had read stories of rogues taking maidens among the hay of their own father's farm. It made him giddy to think he would experience that tonight. Well, perhaps not the 'maiden' part.

A large padlock blocked the front door. He would have to find another way in. He circled the building and came across a smaller door to the side. No padlock on this one but it was still shut tight, most likely barred from the inside. Looking up he spied an opening from on high with a sturdy enough ladder leading up to it. Perfect.

A short climb later he peered through the darkness. He could make out the shadows of hay bales but no stack. He crept further in, lantern held to his head, searching.

Suddenly he was hit with a foul stench. His face scrunched and he reeled back. Then he was struck with a realisation. He had smelled that aroma before. He and everyone else had become so familiar with it at this point ever since the plague spread over Faerun.

He angled his lantern down to shine the floor level. There were shapes moving below, faint silhouettes caught in the light.

Then came the growls.

His eyes grew to the size of saucers and he lowered the lantern further. Walkers, dozens of them, wandered aimlessly on the ground. Their snarls grew louder and one by one they turned towards him, black, rotten teeth bared, glazed eyes peering up at him. They shambled over to him and pressed themselves against the wall, reaching up with sinewy fingers.

Gelnen staggered back, stomach caving into itself. He dropped the blanket and ran for the exit. But he stopped as someone stood in the doorway.

Mage stared, panting from exertion, eyes wide with fear. Galnen stared back in confusion and shock.

"You were not supposed to see this."


	7. Secrets

On the ground at Chorrol's feet was a thick rug of feathers. Chickens pressed together, stabbing the ground with pinpoint strikes to catch the grain that the boy threw in a number of flourishing displays. Standing nearby was Lorelai with her own bag in hand, adding its contents to the pile.

At first she was hesitant about letting him leave the bed but he was restless, eager to do his part. After much insistance she let him undertake some of the tasks less demanding on the body. Fortunately he seemed content.

"Do not look so worried."

Lorelai started, shunted from her thoughts and realised she had been staring. She took a handful from the bag. "Tis my job."

"No it isn't," he said with a sly grin. "You're a housewife."

Her eyed widened in shock and threw her handful at him, grain scattered across his person. "You little rapscallion! You see my house nearby?" she shook her head and huffed. "Housewife I say."

Chorrol laughed as he brushed the remnants of his mother's projectile. He looked over from those surrounding him to a group of chicks that huddled together. His cheerful demeanor fell as he watched them.

"They don't have a mother," he observed.

Caught off-guard by his comment, Lorelai faltered. She kept her tone light. "Well, mayhaps she is somewhere nearby."

Chorrol shrugged. "Mayhaps she got eaten. Everything is food for something else."

Her face fell, horrified as her son went back to tossing about the grain, as though what he had uttered was as trivial as stating the sun would rise. It rendered her deeply shaken.

Some distance from the two Pitra exited the small chicken coop with one of the fowls in her arms. She looked over to them wearily, watching. Though they were nice and she had no words for her gratitude for their aid, these were simple folk. They would not understand life on a wealthy estate.

She began her trek along the path that wound its way around the farm, running through the exhaustive list of tasks in her head. Though many were handled already thanks to the visitors there was still much to do. The water troughs were to be filled, the cows would be ready to milk any day now, gather vegetables and herbs from the garden, be sure to collect extra healing items for their accident-prone visitors, brush and prepare the horses for riding and bring food to the undead.

It had been a few days now so they would be getting hungry. Three fowls should be enough to sate them for now. Be sure to snap the legs so they can catch them easily or risk a repeat of last time. Place into a bag and wheel them in a barrow. She had learned to put the pained cries from her mind but it was difficult at times.

She carried out the chores with ease, body moving on its own accord, driven by muscle memory as her mind wandered to other things. By the end of the day she left the barn, clapping debris from her hands.

All in a day's work.

...

"Can you be more obvious?"

Gelnen started, his nerves jerked in surprise as he snapped his head from the eyeglass in his hands, trained on the walker-filled barn.

Mage stood beside him, basket under her arm filled to the brim with peaches. She held out one to him. "Here. Enjoy."

He took the peach from her hands and studied it with furrowed brow. He looked up. "You try to buy my silence with fruit?"

Mage rolled her eyes. "Clearly not." She smiled. "There's also jerky."

There was no humour to be found in the elf. He glanced about him and lowered his voice. "Would you kindly tell me why your father has a secret barn of walkers? It's... well, ghoulish, if you would pardon the pun." Mage's raised palms and shushes fell on deaf ears. "You are aware of this, I'm sure."

"Just trust me on this, okay?"

"But I am atrocious at lying. I can't even keep a surprise party hidden. There was this one time..."

"Just trust me on this," she pleaded. "You must. I beg you."

Mage handed the basket to him, gave him a pleading look and left. Gelnen let out a long, frustrated sigh. First Lorelai and now Mage. When did he, of all people, become the harbinger of dangerous secrets?

As he neared the ox-cart Gelnen plucked a fruit from the surprisingly heavy basket. Dall and Ty-Varaz were there and he approached them.

"Dall, I have some peaches for you."

"Oh, well, thank you kindly."

Dall plucked it from his hand and Gelnen pulled forth another and handed it to Ty-Varaz who graciously accepted it.

"An how'r ye?" he asked, biting into the succulent flesh.

Gelnen's heart quickened. "Me? I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Why would you ask that?"

Ty-Varaz stared at him in surprise, juice trickling into his beard. Dall too looked at him with curiosity. Gelen was suddenly aware of what had happened, winced, and quickly fled without a word, leaving the two to exchange bewildered glances.

Dar stared up blankly at the fabric of his tent where the ceiling closed to a point. His head still ached under the cloth that wrapped around it but he was glad at least the bleeding stopped. In his hands was a crossbow bolt, spinning and twirling around his fingers. He lay on his back with his head rested on Harley's torso who lazed in a semi circle, hind legs stretched out, head resting on his front paws. Dar was bored but he had learned even before the plague, boredom meant safety and, with the ordeal he went through, he welcomed that moment of boredom.

From under his head Harley's skin vibrated as he let out a low, warning growl. The dire wolf lifted his head towards the front tent. When Dar turned his own he saw Anderea walk stiffly towards them. He held out a hand to reassure the wolf who settled reluctantly as she stopped just outside. His eyes never left her.

"Hi," she said quietly, staring at the ground. She lifted her hand to show him a small book in her hands. "I got you this. It isn't very good, but..."

Dar sat up and beckoned to her. She gingerly stepped inside and Dar could feel Harley tense but he knew enough not to attack unprovoked. She reached out, fully extending her arm and he took it from her. Opening the book he looked through it while Anderea sat on the floor on the opposite side of the tent far away from his animal companion. She was right, he observed. Poor sentence structure, more than a few egregious spelling mistakes and commas thrown about haphazardly with no thought or care for their function. It was enough to drive one mad.

He looked up at her and frowned. "What, no pictures?"

She laughed softly at that, grateful that some of the tension was dispelled. "I also got you this." She placed a potion of bright red on the ground and pushed it forward as much as she dared. "The potion of Cure Serious Wounds that Shaan brought back with the wand. The wound is rather serious, I thought you'd have use of it."

Dar grunted. "Save it when someone needs it urgently. I have the time to recover naturally."

She pulled her knees to her chest. "Dar, I..." she stopped and let out a sigh. "I'm so sorry. I feel awful."

He closed the book and placed it next to him. "Aye, you and me both."

"I don't expect you to forgive me but if there is anything I can do..."

"You were trying to protect the group. I hold no ill will."

Anderea was taken aback. He was shot in the head and he didn't begrudge her. It was touching in it's own morbid way.

She stared at her hands picking at her fingernails. "I wish I could say that were true. That I was merely protecting our camp."

Dar's brow knitted. "What do you mean?"

"Rillick, he..." she swallowed, "he told me stand down. Ordered me to. But I didn't listen. I was too proud, too stubborn. I didn't want to be treated like... like a woman." She knelt forward as her words tumbled out. He didn't want to hear this, she told herself, but she continued regardless. "As if my place was not to protect the camp from threat but to wash and mend clothes or cook meals over a fire like Lorelai and Cralo does. I wanted to show them, prove to them that I was strong, but instead I..." once again, she trailed off as she gestured limply at him. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I was never meant to take up arms. Maybe I should leave that to... the men."

There was a long silence between the two. Anderea felt ashamed, moreso than she ever felt, spewing her emotions upon the man she had wounded, the one who suffered for her arrogance.

Dar grunted humourously. "Well, if that's what you think then maybe you do."

She looked up with furrowed brow. "I'm sorry?"

He looked over to her. "If you feel the need to earn the admiration of others then maybe you do deserve to scrub floors and bake bread." He watched amusedly at her confused face. "You are quite handy with a bow. You managed to shoot me, in the head no less, from that far away, just imagine what you could do with a little training." He shrugged, picked up the book and opened it on the first page. "Or don't. Do what you want but don't do it because you want respect. If you're good, respect will come to you. If you're not then it won't. Take it from me. I know a thing or two about perceptions based on how I look."

Anderea sat, stunned at Dar's speech. He seemed so casual about it, as if he was instructing someone on how to tie a knot or relaying a recipe from memory. His words, however, helped to lift her heavy heart.

"Thank you," she said warmly, but Dar was stuck into his book, occasionally wincing as he did so.

She let him be, picked up the potion and made her exit.

"Hey!" Dar called out to her.

She turned.

"Shoot me again and you'd best pray I'm dead."

Whether he was serious or not she couldn't say but she grinned regardless and gave a sharp nod.

Lorelai sat crouched over the campfire, stirring a pot of stewed meat. The luxuries of the previous night were a welcome change of pace but now it's back to rabbits, squirrels and wild mushrooms. Joy of joys, she thought.

There was the crunching sound of boot on dry earth. When she glanced up she saw Gelnen, a basket half empty of peaches. He placed it a close distance behind her and turned to her. Her nerves shot and she grew tense. Though he didn't say anything yet she knew what he would say.

"What did Rillick say?" he asked, confirming her suspicions. When she didn't respond he was given her answer. "You didn't tell him?" he exclaimed, and lowered himself, standing with bent knees. "But you must. You need remedies or at the very least a nice pillow."

Lorelai did her best to ignore him though she knew he would persist.

"Here," he said. When she looked up he held out a handful of beef jerky to her. "You can have my share."

"Honey, I do not want your food. Eat."

Gelnen shook his head. "It is you who needs to eat. You are much too scrawny and if you refuse to let Rillick care for you then someone must." She turned away from him, focusing back to the pot. "Lorelai, you have a condition." She looked back up at him with a stubborn glare and he sighed in frustration. "I'll make another journey into town. Tell me what you need."

He was determined to make the situation difficult for her. His kindness and concern does him credit but it grated on her nerves. If only he knew why she held her tongue, why she didn't simply tell Rillick with elation like she so longed to do. But it couldn't come to that. He had a keen mind, her husband, and he would connect the dots if he were to know. The truth would be revealed, Shaan would catch wind of it and their family and the friendship between the two would be ruined. She could not let that happen.

"I need you to be quiet about this," she said to him. "Please."

"Hey, peach-man!"

Shaan shouted over to them from the ox cart not far away. Gelnen reluctantly stood up and continued his deliveries. That did not go the way he had hoped. Now still he harboured two big secrets. It would only be a matter of time before his resolve broke and he did not want to be the cause of that aftermath. Women truly were a strange, and frustrating, breed.

"The river flows south, past the farmhouse Dar found."

On a stripped patch of dirt Rillick knelt over the pair of maps, studying their etchings. With him was Shaan, none too eager to continue the search. The young Gimley sat opposite the two, knees up to his chest. Rillick could guess from his pained expression that Herrasil had some choice words for him.

He continued. "My theory is the strip of Salpha's dress was torn here and then caught by the river rocks."

"So you think she traveled this road to the east?"

He nodded. "I do. What's in that direction?"

"The northern fringes of the High Moor," Gimley said hesitantly, "there is a small village there, I'm not sure what the name is."

Rillick scratched the hairs on his chin. "We should search these areas after weapon training. I shall remain here, hold down the fort. Shaan, I would like you to take another with you. After the incident with Dar I will not have anyone going alone."

He hummed in thought. "Any suggestions?"

"See how they fare in training then take you can pick."

Gelnen joined them shortly, going to each of them in turn. They each took a fruit but Shaan noticed something off about the elf's demeanor. He seemed tense. Rillick too spied this and looked quizzically at him. He stared ahead at something in the distance, then turned and fled.

Shaan and Rillick glanced at each other in amused confusion. When he looked over to where Gelnen stared, Lorelai stood at the top of the hill. Before he could question what had happened, however, two people approached him: Pitra and her daughter Bell.

"We would like to join you for weapons training today," said Bell.

Rillick fought against his instincts, and addressed the women in turn. "Herrasil made it quite clear to me. I cannot involve any of you in what we do without his say so."

"He doesn't care for it," Bell replied, "but he allowed it."

"Though more of a bowman, Ortus was the only one out of us who knew how to wield a blade," Pitra explained. "Now that he's gone we must defend ourselves. He sees the sense in that."

Rillick shook his head. Tension was already high between he and the old farmer. He could not afford to take anything to chance. "Be that as it may, I mean no offense, my ladies, but I shall ask Herrasil myself."

Having sensed there was no reason to linger further, Shaan made his exit. He saw Chorrol standing nearby in his father's cloak. The sigil of Balder's Gate shivered against the soft breeze. His arm was retreated back, obscured by the cloth.

"The cloak suits you," said Shaan as he approached. "How fares you?"

Chorrol rounded on him, his face crossed with determination. "I want to fight. Can you teach me?"

He smiled as he leant on the back of the cart. "Well, my little friend, that is up to your parents."

"Can you talk to them? I know they'll listen to you."

He frowned, contemplative, and hummed. "We shall see."

His eyes were drawn to the fold of the cloak. It framed something pressing against it from the inside, his hand clearly fidgeting. A wave of dread came to him. "Let me see what you have under your cloak."

Chorrol started and he stared unblinking at him. Slowly and guiltily he drew back the cloak to reveal a sword at his belt. Shaan drew a deep breath, fighting down his emotions as he fixed a hard stare at him.

"Come," he said simply, and strode towards the campfire.

Later, Shaan stood with Rillick and Dall as a livid Lorelai shoved the shortsword into its scabbard.

"How did this happen?" she said, storming up to the two.

Chorrol sat on a chair by the fire, fingering the edges of his cloak, staring at the ground.

"The fault is mine," said Dall. "I let him into the cart. He said he was going to check on the doves, that you sent him."

Lorelai stared at Dall in irate shock. "So, on top of everything else, he lied?" her angered gaze fell towards Chorrol who dispassionately kicked at the dirt. "What was he thinking?"

"He wishes to learn how to fight," said Shaan. "He asked me to teach him." He paused, shuffling nervously under Lorelai's presence. "Now, it is none of my concern but I am happy to do it." As she shot him a withering look he added quickly, "it's your decision, of course."

"Well, I for one am not comfortable with it."

"Now don't you make me out as the unreasonable one." She turned to her husband. "Rillick?"

Rillick nodded slowly. "I know. I, too, have my concerns."

She visibly relaxed as some amount of relief brushed over her.

"However..."

She gaped, fury returning in full force, this time directed at Rillick. "However? There is no 'however' about it!" she shot. "He was struck by an arrow mere days ago. He's only now back on his feet and now he wants to go swinging around a weapon?"

Rillick raised a hand diplomatically. "Better that than to be afraid of them. We harbour many blades in our inventory, he would do well to learn how to handle them safely."

"I will not have my child walking about with a blade in his hand!" she snapped.

"How can you defend that?" Rillick parried. "You would have him wander about without means to defend himself?"

"He is as safe as he'll ever be right here!" There was a pause and Lorelai calmed. With a heavy sigh she spoke again. "Look, all that you say makes complete sense. It just feels wrong. I didn't feel great with him following you into the forest and I wish I went with my instincts and said something."

Rillick looked into his wife's eyes. He could see her resolve weaken, but so too was his own. He was surprised to hear she had concerns that day. She seemed positively happy to allow Chorrol to come with him. If that were true then her fears were well founded. Regardless, it would do him well if he were trained.

"He is growing into manhood, thank the gods," he said, more to himself than her. "It would behoove us all to start treating him as such."

"Then he needs to start acting like one," she snapped. "He is much too young to take up arms."

"I won't play with it, mother."

They turned. Chorrol stood before them, straight-backed, head held high. "It is not a toy. I'm sorry I lied and took a sword without your knowledge but I want to find Salpha and I want to defend our camp. I cannot do this unarmed."

He fixed both his parents with a serious gaze. One that rendered even Lorelai lost for words. Rillick could not see a hint of doubt in his eyes. His cloak encircled around him like a shield, an aura that matched his courage. Rillick turned to Lorelai.

"Shaan is the best teacher I know. I've seen him teach those much younger than Chorrol."

Lorelai glanced between he and Chorrol. Thoughts warred inside her mind. Finally she approached him and presented a raised finger.

"You will take this seriously and behave responsibly and if I hear even a breath that you are not living up to expectations..."

"He won't let you down," said Rillick, more a warning to Chorrol than an assurance for Lorelai.

His determined stare never wavered. "Aye."

Lorelai stepped back, fighting the sinking feeling she harboured. She could only prey this would not go awry.

Later, everyone hoisted themselves up onto horses, some on their own but some in pairs such as Cralo and Anderea astride Cralo's dapple grey, Cherrykeeper. Bell swung herself onto a steel grey, one Rillick recognised as one Ortus owned. Floo, he recalled, though he wasn't good at remembering horses' names if his misremembering Cherrykeeper's was anything to go by. As expected, Shaan was out front astride Highlander, his prized grey.

Rillick climbed into the saddle of a bay that he didn't know the name of and was immediately struck with a heavy sense of loss. He hoped that, wherever Mrrl was, he at least treated Fjord well.

Chorrol walked up to him as he settled himself into the saddle. He reached down and clasped the boy's wrist, lifting him onto the horse.

"Now listen. If we are to do this you must heed Shaan's every word," said Rillick firmly to him as he shifted into a comfortable position in front of him.

"Yes, father."

"You must take the utmost care."

"Yes, father."

From the front Shaan turned Highlander and noticed Gelnen standing apart from them. "You coming?" he called.

Gelnen waved his hand in a declining manner. "I have to help Dall groom Ara and Evee. He said he would teach me animal care. I should go look for him."

"You found me."

He stiffened, his shoulders tensed. He turned slowly around to see the beastmaster himself looking at him in confusion. He tried to speak but all came out was a choking sound. The man being directly behind him was not part of his otherwise excellent ploy.

After one last questioning look, Dall turned to Shaan. "He learns well."

Whether or not Shaan was keen on the sun elf missing out on sword training for learning the finer points of animal care he did not express. He merely shrugged and drove himself and the others onward.

As the two watched them shrink into the distance, Dall sidled up to him. Gelnen turned and was about to thank him but he beat him to it.

"So, I am to teach you beastmastery am I?" he said. "Mind telling me what this is about?"

Gelnen coughed nervously, fidgeting with his hands. "You're old, well, you're not, at all, barely a child, in fact, but for your species..."

He trailed off when he met Dall's impatient expression.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "What I mean is... you know things. So, and this is purely hypothetical, what if somebody were to tell you something that somebody else ought to know but..."

"For the love of Tyr, Gelnen, cease your ramblings and spit it out!"

"There's walkers in the barn and Lorelai's pregnant!"

Dall's eyes widened in shock. As did Gelnen's.

...

"Low guard! High guard! Parry, right torso!"

A wide row of bodies stood shoulder to shoulder, shortsword in each hand as they moved in unison to Shaan's instructions. At least to the best of their current ability.

Rillick stood back, hand resting on the pommel of his own sword as Shaan continued to bark out orders for those to follow. A whirl of blades arced amateurishly as their wielders entered the poses set out for them. Rillick could see, at the very least, they were much better than they were an hour ago.

He found himself, however, rather than focused on the trainees, keeping an eye on Shaan, watching wearily as he underwent his teachings. It was as though he was waiting for something, for him to do something but he knew not what.

Shaan paced authoritatively in front of the line, hands clasped behind his back. "Swordplay is much more about footwork than the placement of your weapon. Adopt a weak stance and you'll find yourself on the ground faster than you can blink. Mid guard!"

Everyone brought their arms up, resting the flat of the blade on their free hand's forearm.

"Keep your feet apart, knees bent, hips turned. Strike, right head!"

They swung their sword in a circle around their head and struck high.

While those present were no guardsmen or militia they were effective enough for Rillick to stride forward to Shaan's side.

The minutes dragged on.

"...Next, I will be showing you the most basic and most widely used formation of frontline defense, the shield wall. Form a line, shields in front. Your shield not only protects yourself but the person next to you. Hold your stance."

Soon enough everyone held a shield in their hand, stacked upon one another, swords rested on the tops of their shields.

Shaan continued. "With this formation there is no need for theatrics with your swordplay. Thrust out with your weapon and withdraw. Let your enemy come to you."

Rillick took the lead, breaking the class into two groups, one being the shield wall while the other acted as the walkers. This exercise doubled as an opportunity for he and Shaan to strategise. It was simple enough. Lead the walkers towards the middle while encircling them, a standard method that they used on an uncoodinated undead horde. The tricky part was the added caveat that the attacks must be directed towards the head. This was a cause for concern considering how small a target it was. Indeed, so much of his own decades of training and experience with combat had to be revised to deal with this new enemy. Drastic changes to one's battle tactics had been nothing new to the Watch, fighting kobolds or gibberlings demanded a vastly different approach to fighting orcs or ogres but walkers had the element of numbers and each one could only be felled by a strike to the head.

Soon, when the two were satisfied with the battleline, the exercise was over and the last leg of training commenced. Shaan split people into pairs to spar and practice what they had learned. The constant ringing and scraping of steel on steel reminded Rillick why they decided to conduct their training so far from camp. The walkers would surely hear them.

"Come now lad," Rillick heard Ty-Varaz say to his sparring partner Gimley, "Enough 'o' that sword dancin' crap."

While some began to grasp the basics others were slower. Namely Anderea, who's frustration grew. It reached a new height as she walked straight into Cralo's Fool's Guard for the third time. With her sword inches from her chest she let out a throaty sigh.

"Do not be discouraged," said Shaan, laying a comforting hand on her tense shoulder. "You'll figure it out."

Anderea threw her shortsword on the ground in a huff, spun on her heel and marched away. Rillick and Shaan glanced at each other in surprise.

Whether or not he would've assumed she was so flustered that she quit, Rillick had no time to do so, for she stopped at the pile of weapons a short distance away and scooped up the shortbow that lay there and a single arrow. She stood there, silent, staring at the weapon. Suddenly she spun around and there was a sharp hiss that sounded in Rillick's ear followed by a thunk. Anderea stood motionless, bow raised, the other at her ear, her two fingers pointed outward.

As his mind began to catch up to the events that just transpired, Rillick turned slowly around. There, in a wooden shield that leant upright on a fencepost, was an arrow stuck dead in the center.

He turned back to her, eyes wide. He looked over at Shaan who boasted the same shocked expression.

Anderea beamed. "Who said I haven't already?"

Shaan's expression turned into that of contemplation. He walked over to the weapon pile and picked up the longbow and beckoned her. She bounded over.

"Try this one," said Shaan, giving her the bow. "It has a lot of resistance on the string but you get better range and penetration."

Taking it into her hands she pulled back on the string, getting a feel for the bow. Shaan handed her an arrow while Rillick took the struck shield and leant it on the fence post a fair distance away.

Anderea could see what the guards set her to do. She inhaled, nocked, pulled back the string. Dar's words sounded in her mind. If she was good there was no need to prove herself. Exhale. If she was good, respect will come.

Adjusting for height, adjusting for wind...

The bowstring snapped forward with a twang and the arrow hurtled through the air at blinding speed. The shield suddenly shot into the air and landed. Once again, in the perfect center, an arrow was embedded.

Anderea heard a sound from behind her. Turning, she saw what it was. Everyone had gathered round to watch her and now they were clapping. They were clapping for her. She grinned and gave a bow.

Rillick joined in on the applause, impressed. He looked over to Shaan who regarded her with an appraising eye.

"Well, how about that," Shaan said with a chuckle. "We had a marksman in our midst this whole time."

"Perhaps that is not a bad idea," said Rillick, "to have some ranged support."

Shaan hummed in thought and made his way towards her.

"Alright, theatrics are over, back to your sparring," he ordered, and everyone peeled away. "How does it feel?" he asked her.

She looked over the bow in her hands. "I like it. There's some good strength behind it." She looked up at him, head tilted to the side appraisingly. "You seem different," she said, "calmer over the last few days. There's no longer that anger in your eyes anymore." Her head tilted to the other side. "I wonder what happened?"

He stood still and silent, gaze baring into her. If only you knew, he thought. If only you knew.

She shrugged it off. "Well, I'm glad you decided not to leave at least." With that she left.

Shaan looked over the sparring grounds. Chorrol entered his sights, exchanging blows with Rillick, a proud grin on his face with each parry and counter attack he successfully executed.

"Excellent form, son," he heard Rillick say.

The world collapsed around him in a blur. His fist clenched tight as the tendrils of rage began to seep into him, consuming his every thought. Blood pulsed in his ears, his skin grew hot.

He clamped shut his eyes and took a breath. In an instant the tendrils receded and the world came back to focus.

Now was not the time, he told himself. Not yet.

...

The stable carried a thick musk of horse manure and sweat mixed with hay. A smell almost unbearable to most but to a beastmaster like Dall it carried a great deal of nostalgia. He crossed the dim lit hallway of empty stalls either side to the only one still occupied. There sat Herrasil on a stool, brushing the coat of a magnificent looking chestnut stallion. Dall took a moment to admire it.

"That's a fine looking horse," said Dall.

"That he is," Herrasil replied. "I call him Chivalry. He is my most prized steed."

Dall walked forward and placed his forearms on the railing. He needed to approach this delicately, make it sound like no one told him but not explain too much or it will sound fake.

"I like your fields," he decided upon. "I ended up by the barn." Herrasil froze, waiting. Dall added, "I heard the moans."

There was a pause, a long, tense silence that grew between them.

"That is unfortunate," he said at last, and resumed brushing Chivalry.

Dall stifled a sigh of relief. It appeared he didn't suspect anything. "I'm sure you have your reasons for keeping this a secret."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "I have seen the irrational fear, the atrocities, such as the incident at my well."

He looked back to that time. "We had slain a walker," he said, unsure of what he was getting at.

"You killed a person."

He frowned, confused. "Surely you've seen these walkers attack, kill. They're monsters, undead.

Herrasil stopped and turned to face him. He dug into his shirt and pulled forth an amulet in the shape of a blooming rose. Chauntea's holy symbol. "With this I can cast Turn Undead but when I used it on your so-called 'walkers' it did not work. That means they are not undead. If they are not undead, they are not dead. If they are not dead then they are alive."

"With all due respect," said Dall with little respect, "you haven't seen what we've seen cut off from the world as you are. I've seen people suffer mortal, lethal, wounds and die without a shadow of a doubt and come back. Now, what you say is, indeed, true. We have learned during our travels that they, in the most technical sense, are not undead, but they are certainly not alive."

"My wife and stepson are in that barn." Herrasil's voice was sharp, warning. "They are people and they live still."

Dall backed away from his smoldering gaze and held out his hands diplomatically. "My apologies. Allow us to help. I'll speak to Rillick. He's a good man. We can make the barn more secure, keep everybody safe."

"The barn is secure," his voice was as calm as always but the ire was not lost on Dall. "Keep this to yourself if you wish to help." Dall opened his mouth to speak but Herrasil silenced him with a raised hand. "Rillick is a man of conscience, that is true, but are you so sure of everyone in your party?"

He was about to tell him no, that no one was untrustworthy, that everyone in their party was of sound morals. He was, however, struck with the realism that, no, he wasn't sure. Not everyone was so worthy of trust. One in particular came immediately to mind.

Shaan brought his shortsword up and Anderea's blade slid harmlessly down the edge of his. Next thing she knew she felt steel touch the side of her neck.

"Your stance is wrong. Again."

He disengaged with a whirl of his sword and kicked her feet into the right place.

"I don't understand this venture," said Anderea with growing agitation. "I have shown to you I can use a bow." She managed to swing twice before Shaan somehow held the edge of his sword to her head between the eyes.

"You think the walkers will keep their distance? What if you run out of arrows or are indoors where a bow is useless? Again!"

They retreated back to their stance. She moved in with a thrust but Shaan spun out of the way and he was behind her, grasping firmly her shoulder and his sword across her throat. She let out a frustrated growl.

"Do I vex you?" she felt his breath on the side of her neck. He released her and she stumbled forward, turned and once again brought her sword up. Shaan circled her. "Come, girl, you have walkers all around you. They're in the forest. Inside the cart. You think a bow alone can save you?"

"Stop badgering me!"

He pointed to her with his sword. "You're too emotional. You need curb your emotions." He made a fist over his chest. "Take all the guilt, the fear, the insecurity, rid yourself of them."

"Because you're so bloody calm all the time."

His glare stopped her heart as he bore down on her. In the span of a jiffy he batted her sword away and pressed the edge of his under her chin. "See that?" his voice sounded like it could grind wheat. "I can be angry. I can be positively livid and I will always strike true. But you, by Tyr, you fight like a girl."

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her shortsword as the edges of Anderea's vision began to blur. Anger swelled as his words dug into her like so many hot knives. Shaan disengaged, demeanor gone in an instant, and strode back to his starting position.

"Knees bent, step forward as you strike. Do not think of it. Muscle memory, girl, instinct." His voice progressed in volume until he was shouting. "Now strike me!"

Even a moment's hesitation was a mistake. Shaan charged forward and swung his sword wildly at her in a flurry of movement. She desperately blocked his blows. Panic overwhelmed her as she backed away, desperate to put some distance between her attacker but he kept moving forward.

"He's coming for you! He will rend the flesh from your bones, tear you limb from limb!" Shaan hollered like a man possessed. "I'm the walker, right here, the walker who killed Amee now you strike me down! Strike me down!"

Anderea's heel caught the protruding root of a tree and she fell, sprawling on the ground. Shaan stood over her, eyes wild, but he ceased his assault and lowered his sword. She stared up at him, eyes filled with shock, hurt and betrayal. With every muscle shaking with adrenaline she picked herself, and her sword, off the ground and stormed off without another word.

She had spoke too soon at the training ground. He was just as wrathful as ever. It was merely that now he was able to hide it. At least, it seemed, until now.

... ... ...

The piercing clang of hammer and nail grew louder as Lorelai drew near to Herrasil who was hunched over a newly constructed stretch of fence. She leant her arms on the wooden surface but the gentleman farmer seemed not to notice.

"Afternoon," she said.

He looked up, glanced at her then back down to his work. "I take it your boy did well."

"Not bad at all. In fact he wants to take up arms."

He laughed, a deep, resonating sound from the back of his throat. "Be grateful you don't have a daughter. If only things were as simple as just wanting to fight."

"Chorrol is getting that chance, thanks to you." She bowed her head to him. "You have my eternal gratitude for what you did and your hospitality. I assure you we'll earn our keep."

Herrasil stiffened and looked up at her with a polite smile. "I appreciate that but with Chorrol getting better I imagine you'll be moving on soon. Berdusk, so I hear, to see the Harpers."

He returned to his task, dismissing Lorelai completely, leaving her reeling over what he had said. How nonchalant he seemed to be. Does he not know? Does he have no notion of the horrors that were out there?

She left. She didn't know what else to do.

Shortswords were all present save for two in Shaan's possession: Six longswords, two spears discluding Dall's, a longbow and shortbow. Rillick was satisfied. All weapons were accounted for.

He looked up from his examination as Lorelai approached.

She spoke in a hushed voice. "Is it true Herrasil expects us to leave?" Rillick made no reply for he didn't need to. The silence between them was enough. "Does anybody else know?"

"Not yet."

"When? How long have you known about this?"

Rillick raised his hands diplomatically. "Not long. There is no need to fret over this."

"How can you expect me not to fret over this?" she snapped. "We have shelter here, food, water, medicine."

"I've been talking with Herrasil. It is not set in stone," he said, doing his best to keep his growing agitation.

"He clearly thinks it is," she hissed, then sighed and looked to the ground in contemplation. "We have to remedy this. Folks are settling in here. They'll be devastated."

"I am aware and am working on it."

"Perhaps I can talk to him too," Lorelai offered, "plead our case."

Rillick held up his palm. "No. Things are uneasy as of late. The best thing we can do is give Herrasil his space."

There was an uneasy silence between them and they held one another's gaze. Rillick's face fell and he took an involuntary step back.

"Don't look at me like that." His voice was shaky.

Lorelai frowned. "Like what?"

"Like you're scared. That you don't trust me. I can endure it from everyone else but not from you."

She shook her head. "I don't understand how you could keep something like this from me. Chorrol is barely on his feet, Salpha is missing and Dar and Ty-Varaz are hurt. How can we simply leave?"

"It's not what I want either," Rillick pleaded, "but if we must go I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and Chorrol are okay." His hands cupped either side of Lorelai's face. "We will prevail. We will."

She said nothing, staring up into his intense gaze, the love, the determination that shone and pierced into her soul. His strong, calloused hands held a promise as they held her still. There was no doubt in her mind he meant every word.

"Okay," she whispered, and the tension Rillick held visibly released him.

... ... ...

Shaan's hands gripped the reins tightly in the hope of stopping them from shaking. He was careless, he let his guard down and the rage boiled to the surface. It was a miracle he even managed to fight it, pulled it back and calm himself. Even now, however, he could feel its dormant embers.

Beyond him down the path he saw Anderea and Shaan could feel the tension from thus far. He kicked Highlander to a canter and caught up to her, slowing to a trot.

"Allow me to offer you a ride at least," he said.

"My feet work perfectly fine." Anderea's tone was cold and dismissive. She kept her gaze to the front.

He sighed. "See here, I was just trying to light a fire under you, to give you an idea when the hells break free."

"Is that an apology?"

Shaan allowed a lull in their conversation before speaking again. "I should've held my tongue upon bringing Amee into it. Aye, it is an apology."

She huffed. "You're a true ass at times."

He grunted amusedly. "I acknowledge that. Tell you what, I have tidings of Salpha and where she may be. I'm to take my search there." He gave the most comforting smile he could muster. "Come with me, be my companion. We'll return to camp, pick up a bow of your choosing and head southeast to The High Moor. We might even pass Secomber, or what's left of it."

For some time Anderea continued her way down the path in silence. Though her ire towards him was still at its peak his offer was tempting.

In the end, for Salpha's sake, she told herself, she stopped and turned to him. She said nothing but her intent was clear. When Shaan extended his hand a second time she accepted it and together they rode back to camp.

As Lorelai reached the campfire a vile stench collided with her senses. The smell stirred the contents of her stomach and she turned, making a beeline towards a fallen log. She retched but she kept it down, sitting stiffly on the log as her stomach convulsed.

Dall sat on a low stool nursing a rabbit stewing in a skillet over the fire. He looked up and watched Lorelai, sensing the perfect opportunity. Indeed, it was so exquisitely timed and set up he would be foolish not to take it.

"My wife was pregnant once."

Lorelai started and looked up. The old beastmaster stood beside her, weathered face sculpted in that gentle smile of his.

"It was a failed birth. We never tried again after that."

"I'm sorry," said Lorelai.

"What I remember most is how nauseated she became at the smell of cooked meat. She was a big lass, my wife, being a blacksmith and all, so her diet had no short amount of it but when she was with child she simply couldn't stomach it. One time I cooked a wild turkey given to us by the local huntsman and she couldn't remain in the house two days until every breath of the smell was gone, poor girl."

"Gelnen told you did he not?"

Dall fell silent and pursed his lips in defeat. It seemed the woman was quicker than he gave her credit for. "What did you expect? The boy has no guile." There was no point hiding it.

"I thought elves were supposed to have guile," Lorelai muttered.

"He was born and raised to the city life. He is as inelegant and ungraceful as us humans."

Lorelai huffed in amusement and a smile appeared on her face if only for a brief moment. She stared at the golden grass at her feet. "I haven't told Rillick. I cannot."

"Because of Shaan?"

She snapped her head up and stared at him wide-eyed. "Was... was it so blatant?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, no, I doubt anyone knew. I didn't, not for certain."

She winced, a faint blush forming on her cheeks, then heaved a sigh heavy with regret. "I had thought my husband dead. I felt as if I had died with him. I wanted to feel something, anything. Now I hate myself for it."

"And the baby?"

Her eyes blazed. "Belongs to Rillick. What came before matters not."

"Then what's your concern?"

Lorelai felt her eyes sting with tears. "Memories are what keep me going now. Memories of life used to be and I've got a deep well to draw upon. I still remember joy. But I think Chorrol's well is already running dry and this baby, no good memories will be made for her, only fear and pain and suffering."

He reached out with a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You cannot think that. There is still joy to be found. We take strength from one another still."

"Do you still believe this baby has a chance, that it will grow up and live a happy life?" she faced him fully now, her face awash with a mix of anger and desperation. "Look me in the eyes and tell me my child will grow to your age and die happy. Tell me. Tell me you believe that."

Dall opened his mouth to speak but all that came was silence. Why would he not speak? Does he truly believe what he preaches? If so then why did he speak no words?

Silence was the answer Lorelai sought. A part of her wanted him to tell her that all will be well, that there was hope for a child to grow up happy. He could not for nobody could promise such a life in the world they found themselves a part of but she still felt the painful sting of despair.

She walked away before she could break fully.

The axe cracked against the log. At long last it split and the two halves tumbled to the ground. Gelnen leant forward to take another log from the pile when he saw Lorelai, face and eyes red with fresh tears. He had seen her and Dall talking and if she was coming to him there could be only one reason for it.

"I'm sorry. It tumbled out and I had no means to stop it and it was Dall..."

Lorelai raised a hand to silence him. "It's okay. I should never have put you in that position." She coughed, glanced about her and stepped closer, speaking in hushed voice. "I've given what you said some thought, about needing help, and you are right that I do."

His silver eyes shone eagerly as he gave a series of sharp, rapid nods. "Of course. Anything you need."

"If you still have a mind to make a run into town for me."

"I am at your disposal."

"Thank you." Lorelai felt an overwhelming sense of relief and a warmth from the young elf's eagerness to help. So much so she pulled him into an embrace.

Gelnen squeaked in surprise at first but returned the hug, pressing his face to her collarbone. "It's okay. It's not so dire a thing, really."

Suddenly feeling self conscious she pulled back and timidly walked away.

... ... ...

Hours passed and Mage stood atop Floo, following the trail that would lead them to Red Larch. Behind her was Gelnen on their party's dapple gray, Cherrykeeper, wearing the short cloak since their last departure with his hood drawn over his head. The town appeared over the horizon.

"You need not have come," he said. "You could hate me at a distance."

Were that she could. However, as much as she hated it so, she could not let him go off alone and with everyone either too busy or too ill it fell to her. Besides which there were some supplies they were running low courtesy of their accident-prone guests.

"Say something, I beg you," Gelnen pleaded.

Still she said nothing.

"Mage, I..."

"I asked for your trust and you betrayed it," she snapped after so long being bent. "Now father is livid with me. Your turn."

They entered the main gate and Mage traced her well trodden route to the apothecary.

"So your father thinks they are still alive?"

"Father believes they are cursed by Talona, Goddess of Pestilence and Chauntea's greatest foe."

"You also believe this? Even after what you saw at the well?"

"I don't know what I saw at the well."

"Yes you do." At last they reached their destination and dismounted. They went about tying their horses. "See here, if you had seen what befell Neverwinter you would not have a barn of walkers."

"I do wish you'd stop calling them that."

"What do you call them?" Gelnen's ire grew in kind.

"Mother!" she spat, silencing him. "Lord and Lady Fichir, Lassil'i, Durican."

She swept past him and shouldered through the door, face red with sorrow and anger. Gelnen stiffly followed soon after, wishing he was anywhere else.

Once he entered the shop Mage turned to him. "What is it she wants?"

"I cannot say."

Her expression was a mix of bewilderment and frustration. "So when one of them asks to keep your mouth shut..."

Gelnen's hand snapped up, cutting her off. Between his two fingers was the list of items. She stared at it defiantly, unwilling to admit she lost. Finally she snatched it from his fingers.

"So you know I betrayed her trust in the same breath as yours," he said as she unfolded the parchment. "Now kindly detach yourself from my nethers and help me look."

With that he swept past her and disappeared between the shelves as a pressure began to build between his temples. These two were killing him sure as any walker, he thought. Were all human women like this?

The moment Mage rested her eyes upon the words her arms dropped like metal bars. "This is a jest," she breathed. "This must be a jest." She threw her arms up in disbelief and plodded towards the shelves opposite Gelnen.

Sifting through the potions and remedies for the tribulations ladies faced bared no item Mage could find that was written down. It wouldn't be long now before she would have to find another town to loot. Giving the shelves a final glance she stepped away and made for the storage room behind the counter.

The room was dusky and filled with crates and other containers for storage. It was rife with all they came for. She reached out for the last item on the list on the shelf among other highly expensive potions. This particular potion was black as coal. Blackroot Extract, a lethal poison that was too small a dose to an adult. To an unborn child, however...

Something shot through the gaps of the shelves and grabbed Mage by the wrist. She screamed and pulled back but she was yanked forward and she stared into the clouded vacant eyes of a walker.

"Gelnen!" she cried. "Get it off me!"

Gelnen stormed into the room, in his hand was a sickle. He ran towards the snarling creature and swung at its arm. Mage was thrown back as the hand that bound her was severed. In a fit of panic and terror she clawed at the severed arm which still clasped tightly around her wrist. Gelnen swung again, this time the sickle slashed deeply the side of the walker's neck. There was a loud crack as the creature's neckbone snapped and its head tilted sideways and dangled upside-down, barely held onto its shoulders by a few sinewy strands. He hacked at the neck once, twice and the head fell to the ground, its body slumped in a heap soon after. Still it growled and snarled, gnashing its teeth at him. With an anguished cry Gelnen plunged his the tip of the curved blade into the walker's eye, silencing it.

He rounded onto Mage and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Are you safe? Did it bite you?"

She was at a loss for words. All she could do was wrap her quivering arms around him and hold him tight.

... ... ...

The village at the northern fringes of the High Moor was a modest one. Small, simple buildings flanked a single stone road weathered and cracked from months of neglect. There was not a soul, neither walker nor girl, in sight save for two on horseback who scanned their surroundings with a practiced weariness.

Anderea had opted, with Shaan's recommendations, to take the longbow considering they would be in a small village with acres of farmland. As they neared the center she tightened the string.

"We will search the houses," said Shaan. "Search the marketplace after."

For a long time Anderea remained silent, swaying with Highlander's movements.

"If Salpha journeyed thus far," she said at last, "she may have a chance, do you not agree?"

... ... ...

The ride back to the estate dragged on in uncomfortable silence. Gelnen glanced over to her to see her face red with anger. By the time they arrived Mage was furious. She stormed up the path towards Lorelai who sat and sorted through clothes. Gelnen stumbled behind her, trying to keep up and stop her.

"Hey!" Mage shouted once they were within earshot. "We have your things!"

"If you would cease a moment," Gelnen pleaded.

Lorelai rose to her feet and beckoned them over. She turned to Gelnen. "Come this way."

"Why? There is nothing to hide." Mage shoved the pack into Lorelai's arms with such force she staggered back. She pushed forward and jabbed a finger to her breast. "Next time you want something get it your bloody self."

Lorelai gaped at her. "Mage, I..."

She slammed another item into her. "Here's your abortion poison."

Before she could say another word Mage pushed past her and fled. Lorelai stared after her in shock. She knows.

She turned to Gelnen who winced and fled before she could say anything and chased after Mage.

Passing between a singular line of trees Gelnen hurried over to Mage. He matched her pace and gazed at the tall grass under their feet.

"That was an irksome response if I may say so," said Gelnen after some hesitation.

She scoffed and stopped her stride, rounding on him. "Which part, pray tell? The part where that bitch almost got us killed?"

He stopped some steps ahead of her and turned, pulling down his hood. "I should have gone alone. If you seek someone to blame then blame me."

She laughed humourously. "Of course. Take the blame. As bright as you are, you are a fool."

He squinted one eye, trying to decipher her words. "I'm afraid I don't follow. I think you paid me a complement and yet you made it sou _mmf!"_

Mage surged forward, grabbed both sides of his jawline and yanked him into a searing kiss. Gelnen's eyes were wide in shock, his hands remained still but he began to return the favour. One of Mage's hands weaved into his hair as the other held his jaw, keeping his head tilted up to her. She pulled away and Gelnen gasped for air.

She fixed him a hard stare. "I have lost three people that I care dearly for in this world."

"Mage..."

"Silence. You are smart. Brave. A leader. You do not know this nor do your people. I doubt they want to know. They would rather have you fetching peaches. Undead in the well? Send Gelnen. You're bait for the walkers and I cannot bare you becoming one of them."

She pushed by him without another word, leaving Gelnen with the sensation of her touch buzzing on his skin, his heart racing in his chest.

In the maelstrom of this day one thing was for certain. whatever this was between he and Mage was no longer a fleeting fancy, a roll in the hay. She was more than that. He respected her.

... ... ...

The sun hung low in the sky over the farmlands as Shaan and Anderea rode to the final house, a small round cottage. Weeds ran rampant over the several small plots that lined the front garden, tangled threads of dried foliage spilled out onto the dirt path that lead towards the door and crunched and snapped under their boots as they neared. Behind the house was the skeletal remains of a tree that clawed at the thatch roof. Shaan pushed open the door with a long, agonising creak that both flinched at. They gripped the hilts of their sheathed swords and held still.

Nothing happened.

They crept inside and looked about them. It was dark and the smell of dust filled the air. It was small with a dividing wall to the right. In the center was the hearth, long since gone cold, set on the area of the floor that was laid with stone which carried on to the door. To the far wall was a large wooden chest, open and showing naught but the tiny dots of dust that hovered in the air. Indeed, it seemed there was nothing inside, not a single weapon or tool, save for the chest, a table with two stools and a single brass ladle that lay on the ground.

"Salpha?" Anderea called. "Anyone?"

No answer.

Shaan's eyes were drawn to the wall on the right. On closer inspection, while the area up to his knees were solid, beyond that it was shoddily made as if built in haste.

"That looks newly crafted," said Anderea, mirroring his thoughts.

"They barricaded themselves in the animal's den," said Shaan. "Tried to hold their ground." He shook his head solemnly. A foolish thing they did, cutting off any hope of escape.

The woven sticks that bound together held gaps wide enough for Shaan to peer through. Doing so he saw that the dwindling sunlight poured into the small room and several shapes scattered the ground inside along with the ever present stench that hounded them relentlessly.

He turned and swept out the door leaving Anderea scrambling behind. He rounded the corner, navigating thornbush and wildflower, and was met with a most harrowing sight.

The wall was decimated, torn to shreds by brutal hands and the ragged edges framed a picture of several corpses, sunken, withered bodies, ribbons of flesh barely clung to their person. Among the human carcasses were that of chickens, their small frames nothing more than craters and mangled feathers.

Anderea keeled over and the little food she ate that morning burst from her throat and onto the ground.

"Wattle and daub proved no match to the walker's might," said Shaan grimly. He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the macabre scene. "Come, let us move. The creatures are becoming restless."

"She was never here was she?" Anderea muttered, crestfallen. "I cannot bare to tell Cralo this was all for naught."

Their path back to the marketplace was barred by an increasing number of walkers. They came from all sides, sunken bodies with tattered clothes or dresses. A number of farming tools were lodged in them. Some had sickles buried into their shoulder or sternum, small rusted axes were lodged in their stomach or neck. Highlander snorted nervously behind them and stamped the ground but otherwise stood firm. A sharp hiss sounded as Shaan unsheathed his longsword and Anderea made to lift the bow from her shoulder but Shaan stopped her with a hand.

"Worry about your bow later," he said. "Focus."

There were two directly in front of them, a man and a woman. Shaan leapt forward, cleaving through the top half the man's head. With the momentum of the swing he spun and cut down with both hands delivering a diagonal cut to the other. In the span of a second they were on the ground, heads half missing.

Anderea drew her shortsword and fell behind Shaan, who was in a low combat stance. A third walker shambled towards them, shirt torn and hung at his waist in strands, a pair of shears were embedded in his neck. Shaan backed away and stopped behind Anderea. She looked at him, horrified, but he gave her a sharp nod.

"I'm watching," he said calmly. "Strike him down."

The walker before them drew closer and he seemed to grow in bulk with every step. She steeled her nerves and entered the stance shown to her before, her sword crossed in front of her.

It was only then she realised just how short her blade was. The walker came closer but not enough, its rasping breath, its wretched smell, closer still but still it was out of range of her sword. Anderea's heart raced and her feet shuffled back to gain comfortable distance. She stopped herself, knowing that would not help. Still it was closer and now she could hear the others, once in the distance but now so close. The walker eclipsed her vision and seemed to tower over her. Did the village have a giant living among them? How was he so big? She slashed with her sword but it only cut air. He wasn't close enough. She saw the other walkers creep in the corners of her vision. The one in front bared his rotted teeth, gnashing them together which caused the muscles in his neck to pulsate and move the shears in his neck. She shook with adrenaline and panic. Again she struck and again she struck open air. How was he still out of range?! His arms reached out, skin and flesh hung like bandages from his arms.

The tips of his fingers brushed her hand.

Fear consumed every fiber of Anderea's being, panic flooded her very soul and her swordarm thrashed in front of her. The world was spent reeling, whirling in a blur of rapid motion, flying past Anderea's eyes with blinding speed. Chucks of flesh flew into the air, fingers rained down on her but she continued her mad whirlwind as a last desperate attempt to keep the creature away.

Something landed on her attacker's head with a crunch. A larger blade had lodged itself through his head. Her mind eased back to lucidity as Shaan yanked his sword up and the walker collapsed by her feet. Shaan gave her a pointed look as her chest heaved in an effort to draw breath. She looked ahead. Other walkers converged towards them but they were still a fair distance away.

As Shaan marched forward to engage Anderea lifted her longbow from her shoulder with one hand. As she did the other drew from the quiver at her belt. Bow and arrow met in front and she fired. The arrow landed square between the eyes of the nearest walker. Before it even hit the ground Anderea drew back the bowstring with another at the ready.

Two more collapsed in succession near Shaan. He focused his attention on the next in line but she too slumped, an arrow lodged in her eye. He spun around. Anderea stood several paces from him, marching with a confidence he had never seen from her before. Her arm was like clockwork, pulling an arrow from the quiver at her hip, pulling back the string and releasing with frightening accuracy. Her face was cold, almost lifeless and devoid of any emotion. Any walker in the vicinity could not even come close to him without abruptly collapsing on the ground. He looked on, shocked, awed, even. Not a single arrow missed its mark.

Before he knew it all the villagers around them were struck down and it was silence once more.

The two spent a few minutes to gather up all the arrows from the heads of the dead-again villagers. Shaan showed her how to remove them with minimal damage using a loop of wire he retrieved from Herrasil. In the midst of their task moaning filtered into their ears. Distant but rapidly growing. It seemed to him that those whom roamed the fields were able to move much faster than those of the city. He hoisted himself onto Highlander's saddle as more walkers emerged from the marketplace beyond.

"Anderea, grab my hand," he said. "Let us away." She didn't move. "Come on!"

She payed no heed to him and instead strode forward. Her eyes seemed to glaze over just as she did prior. Arrows with bloodied tips were woven between the fingers of the hand that held her bow. She pulled a fresh one from her quiver, drew back the string and fired.

... ... ...

The tip of the flight feather of a dove scratched across the page in sharp, deliberate strokes. Lorelai withdrew and dipped it into her inkwell which was running worryingly low. She ought to have added that to her list but she already harboured enough guilt for what he already retrieved.

After etching down a few more lines for her latest poem she lay the dry feather onto the desk and leant back in her chair. It had been getting harder to focus what with all that occurred over the last week and she had noticed that in the poems she wrote. They've become more dour and depressing. No big surprise there, Lorelai pondered.

Footsteps. She looked up. Gelnen walked up to her with tense shoulders and ashen face.

"The blood on Mage's shirt," said Lorelai once he was in earshot.

"She was attacked."

"Are you two well? How dire was it?"

"It was... close."

A terrible guilt stabbed her chest. "I'm so sorry. I never should've sent you there."

"I offered."

"I thought the town safe but if you never returned..."

Gelnen rose his hand to silence her. "Yet we did as I always do."

She smiled and a warm joy and affection enveloped her heart. Gelnen smiled back, but only very briefly.

"The potion. Will it even work?"

The flask of dark liquid stood still on the desk beside her, the shrinking candle giving it a menacing glow.

"I cannot say. I do not know if I want to."

"If that is the case then I got this too."

Gelnen produced another small flask the same shape as the Blackroot. This one carried the colour of bright yellow. She took it from him and stared.

"It's a Restoration potion of sorts," Gelnen continued. "My mother drank one when she had me. It's to ensure the baby is born healthy and without complication."

Lorelai looked to the Blackroot then to the potion in her hands and finally back to Gelnen. "That is quite the choice."

"I'm glad it isn't mine."

A silence fell between them and grew. Gelnen looked as if he wanted to say something. At last he cleared his throat. "Lorelai, we are friends, yes?"

Her brow furrowed. What an odd question. "With all we have endured thus far, I would say so."

He nodded, affirming to himself, and fidgeted with his hands. "I cannot tell you what to do. Never could I tell you so; but your choice, perhaps you ought not to make it on your own."

The sun elf sighed and walked away with his head hung low. The words echoed in Lorelai's mind. She reached over and took the Blackroot Extract into her other hand and stared down at the two in her lap.

If only he knew why she kept this hidden. This was her choice, her burden to bare. She dared not share this with Rillick. Her oblivious husband would no doubt he would relay such tidings to Shaan or he would find out at the very least. The man was unraveling in front of everyone. This was becoming apparent even to Rillick. If he were to find out it might send him over the edge which could only spell trouble for the whole party. The more folks who knew the greater the risk he would catch wind of it. Two was already dangerous enough.

Now she had another dilemma on her hands. She placed both potions onto the table side by side in front of her.

Quite the choice indeed.

... ... ...

The road stretched on with seemingly no end in sight. It mattered little for neither Shaan nor Anderea were in a rush to return. Her arms wrapped around Shaan's waist to hold herself fast. Her bowstring was loose and hung across her shoulder.

She had done it. She had found her true skill. Dar was right. All she had to do was shed herself of the need to prove herself to others. In doing so she proved to herself. Perhaps she couldn't handle a melee weapon if her life depended on it but, having slain every undead serf in that village, everyone would see she was a damn fine archer. She smiled at how little that meant to her now. Of course she was. She always knew that.

Adrenaline still surged through her, so much energy with nothing to use it on with triumph on top of it making it shimmer with even greater intensity.

If one were to ask Anderea why she did what she did next she would not be able to answer. All she knew was her hands began to move, seemingly of their own accord, to slide across Shaan's body. Her right hand dove under his tunic and over the curves and ripples of muscle up to his chest. Her left traveled lower and delved between his legs.

She had no intention of stopping them.

Shaan glanced at her over his shoulder with a look of shock but made no move to stop her. His neck was tickled by her long, contented sigh. He face the front again, his heart began to race with anticipation.

"Go on then," he said.

She grinned as he looped an arm around her waist and swung her around to his front. He held the reins in one hand and Anderea with the other, her legs clasped around his torso. It was incredibly awkward to maneuver in the small saddle on the swaying back of the horse but, with such eagerness between them, they managed.

Highlander continued his slow walk back home. Whatever was going on up there Shaan's companion was making an awful ruckus.

... ... ...

A strong breeze sprinted across the land and caught Lorelai's worn dress. It swayed and rippled until it fell still. She gazed out across the fields, the wind visible as it formed a line in the long grass. She stood at the crest of the hill at the edge of their camp under the cover of the line of trees, their shifting shadows cast over her fully enveloping her in darkness.

Two potions: One the colour of the rising sun. The other as black as the endless abyss. Two potions. One impossible choice.

The choice was simple. Life or death. This was what she had held in her hands. She wondered, is this what being a god feels like? If so she wanted nothing to do with it.

She had chosen. The potion felt heavy in her limp fingers. Slowly she lifted her arm until the Blackroot was in her sight. She pulled the cork free, her hands shook uncontrollably, tears fell like a stream from her eyes to her chin.

She lifted the potion to her lips and lifted back her head. The taste was a mix of bitter and sickly sweet.

Shaan slid from Highlander's saddle as they neared the ox cart and Anderea followed suit. Dall looked up and made his way to greet them. Cralo was first to reach them.

"Anything?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

"Not today," said Shaan glumly.

Anderea lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry. We'll cover more ground tomorrow."

Dall's brow knitted deeply. "What happened out there?"

The two shared a glance.

Anderea blushed. "I, well..."

"The village was overrun," Shaan interjected, "not a single serf survived."

She nodded, glad for Shaan's timely rescue.

"Let's get you cleaned up," said Cralo to the half-elf.

She draped an arm around her shoulder and lead her away. Shaan made for the stables, leading Highlander for some much needed food and water. As he did Dall hurried to his side.

"Shaan?"

"Aye?"

"Your stallion is quite the specimen. Strong, hardy, fearless even."

He smiled in thanks but confused with where this was going.

"I'd wager more than enough energy to carry you far from here."

He stopped, a sharp scrape of his boot on the gravel. A few feet between them and he turned, his face etched into a scowl.

"You're telling me to disband?" his voice was tense.

Dall nodded. "I know you've been planning it. Perhaps now is a good time."

He regarded the old man with a careful appraise. "Is this about Anderea?"

He drew a sharp breath and composed himself. This was not, he reminded himself, merely the catalyst for this exchange. "I am looking out for the party."

A mocking smirk drew along Shaan's mouth. "You think the party would be better off without me, Dall? Why not tell that to Rillick or Lorelai." The smirk vanished. "Chor... Their boy would be dead if it weren't for me. If I didn't risk life and limb."

"What of Ortus? You've been mighty vague about that night, about what happened."

Shaan's jaw clenched tight and Dall could see the pressure. "Ortus died a hero," he said through gritted teeth.

"So you say."

His eyes seemed to ignite like a ball of fire in a sorcerer's hand. "A little boy lived because of what happened that night. You would do well to show some gratitude."

"I wasn't there."

"No, my friend, you were not."

"But I was there the time you poised an arrow at Rillick. You pulled back the string with the head pointed towards him and you held him there."

Between them fell a silence more intense than a dragon's roar. Shaan's fists curled and whitened as the tendrils once again began to climb and lick at his coursing blood. His face darkened as he took a step towards him, moving like a predator stalking its prey.

"You'd think I would shoot Rillick?" his voice was a whisper but carried barely contained fury. "You think I would cut him down? He is my best friend, the man I love as a brother. You think that is the kind of man I am?"

Dall swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and forced himself to hold his gaze. "That is correct."

His mouth curled into a snarl, teeth bared as he edged closer. He used his superior height to cast a shadow over him, their faces so close they almost touched "If I were the kind of man who'd slay his best friend then what might I'd do to one I don't even like when he dares throw accusations my way? What, pray tell?"

As much as he tried Dall felt himself take a few involuntarily steps back. The man's glare could cause a gorgon to turn tail and flee. Shaan left him a triumphant smirk as he continued his path to the stables with Highlander.

His hands shook, as much as he tried to stop them, but there was one thing Dall gained from their exchange. He had used the 'I didn't do it' line followed immediately by a threat, a telltale sign of his guilt. Shaan had inadvertently bared his soul and what Dall saw troubled him greatly. There was more to Ortus' death than he let on.

Atop the crest of the hill the lone tree cast a long shadow from the ever descending sun. The sky was painted a palette of magenta and orange and the grass underfoot seemed to be coated in gold. Lorelai seemed so peaceful at the crest, her eyes transfixed to the horizon, all emotion melted away standing so still as to be part of the tree beside her. The only movement was the skirt of her dress, the subtle wind creating ripples in the fabric.

Rillick did not feel the same. Though his heart warmed at the sight it was noticeable only barely. The feelings of anger, of hurt and betrayal burned brighter within him. His boots drummed against the ground hard as he approached her and only after he climbed to the top did she acknowledge his presence. She made no move to do so but Rillick felt a subtle shift in the air around her. He knew she was aware.

Minutes ago Rillick stood at the table in their tent. She had asked for one so that she had something to write her poetry on. Upon the table sat two flasks, one filled with a liquid of bright yellow, a specific kind Restoration potion that he had recognised. Seeing this he knew not what to think until he saw the other. Empty but, on closer inspection, Rillick saw the last remnants that gathered at the bottom. Black as the void. Blackroot Extract, a lethal poison which affects only unborn children.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" he forced his voice to be level.

"We cannot leave," she said, barely a whisper, "I'm with child."

"Truly? I saw the empty potion, what remains inside it. I know what it was."

At last she stirred, turning her shoulders to look at him, the light of the setting sun brushed her face, lighting her skin with a golden glow. "I spat it out."

Lorelai waited for him to respond, her calm only so because she had no energy left for anything else. "You may yell if you wish. Scream if you must but, I beg you, talk to me."

Rillick's features turned dark and he stormed towards her, closing the verbal gap between them. "How long have you known?"

She recognised those words, recognised them from her own voice.

"Does it matter?" she said.

"Days? Weeks and yet you did not see fit to tell me?"

"I tell you now."

"No. The potions, Gelnen knows, does he not? Instead of coming to me you sent him to retrieve Blackroot?"

She fell silent, unable to hold her gaze with his she looked down. "I panicked. You had told me we are to have no roof, no walls."

"You dare pin this on me!" Rillick spat. "You bear down upon me for keeping secrets when you hide this from me?"

"You would have me bring a baby into this?" she rounded on him, tears flooded her eyes. "So that they might have a short, cruel life."

Rillick gaped at her. "How can you think like that?!"

"Can can barely protect the son we have now!"

"So the best solution is to use poison as an assassin would a noble at a banquet?"

She took a step towards him, gesturing desperately. "Rillick, I spat it out. I let myself be lead astray." Her breath hitched. "I don't know how... how we're to do this."

Silence fell between them. Both looked away from the other. Rillick's not so steady breathing, Lorelai's sorrowful hiccups, crickets began their song as the sun dipped further down.

"We can make this work," said Rillick at last.

Lorelai looked up at him with wide eyes. "How? Tell me how?"

"We will find a way. Should we not find a way? You did not drink the Blackroot, that must mean you want this child."

"Not like this. Not giving birth in a ditch. Not when their life hangs ever in the balance the moment their born. Not when every cry will put them and Chorrol and everyone else in harm's way."

His voice was level, his ire had subsided to the relief of either. "Nor is it fair to not give them a chance."

She grimaced as her body threatened to continue weeping. "This is why I did not wish to tell you."

Rillick shook his head. "I remain baffled and bewildered as to why. Do you truly believe I would force you to have a baby you do not wish to possess?"

She swallowed possibly the fifth lump in her throat but as she opened her mouth to speak no words came. Her poor, sweet husband. If only he knew of the days he was gone, of what she did when he was traversing across a hellscape to find her again. Surely he would never...

"So that, if I were to go through with it, the choice would be on my conscience and mine alone," she lied.

"Be that as it may," he quickly glanced about them as if to ensure no one would hear, "I cannot bare to live like this any longer, Lorelai." He stepped closer and, for the first time, she could see his eyes as they were, with no barrier or shroud. They were eyes that harboured such pain, such exhaustion, that she wanted to weep for him. "We cannot live like this." He looked into her eyes. "Please. Is there anything else I ought to know?

It was as though he stared into her soul and spied something deep within, the one thing above all else she needed to keep from him. He saw it, clear as though it was written across her eyes. Her chest pushed in and she uttered the words that had feared her most of all.

"Shaan and I."

Rillick stepped back, eyes grew wide. His wife folded her arms protectively over her chest and stared at the ground.

Suddenly, everything since his reunion with his family, the strange behaviour at the tower, the hostility and anger Shaan projected towards him, the distance the two shared when before they were like close friends, the forlorn glances at her and Chorrol. Everything came together, fragments he had thought irrelevant crashing together to form a clear picture. He looked to the tall grass that shivered in the slight breeze beneath him and he realised there was one small morsel of himself that lingered just at the back of his mind, tucked away out of sight but not fully unseen.

"I know," he said softly. "Of course I know. I always knew."

He didn't wish to believe that small morsel was there. He would turn away, turn a blind eye and pretended there was nothing there. Yet it remained there still, at the back of his mind, just out of sight.

He looked up. Lorelai's eyes glistened and tears ran down her cheeks.

"You thought me dead," he said. "The world went to shit and you thought me dead."

She nodded.

They stood atop the hill with a single tree, close as a married couple ought to be yet their arms remained at their sides.

The sun disappeared over the horizon and the world was plunged into darkness.


	8. Largely Dead Already Part 1

Meat and onions sizzled on a skillet. A knife rapped across a pointed stick and halved feathers were wound to the end with string. A certain quiet rested, carried on the cool morning air, upon the small camp. Some were content with their tasks, their minds wandering far abroad while others sat, plates in their laps, troubled and tense. Others were with heavy heart, be it guilt or disappointment or simply weary after such trying days.

Gelnen sat at the fringes of the camp, watching everyone gathered by the fire supping Cralo's prepared meals. Anderea, absorbed in her work crafting makeshift arrows, the Grimoires whose tension he could sense even at such a distance. Rillick, especially, seemed more crestfallen than usual as he joined the two. He could only guess what had happened. What he had discovered.

"Where did you go, my love?" he heard Lorelai say.

A pause.

"I am here," said Rillick.

He turned his head and looked out across the way to the Gerron estate. Standing on the porch was the small shape of Mage and he could see her none-too-pleased glare from thus far. Her head shook, as though a last attempt to prevent what would be done. He turned away, unable to hold her gaze, only to meet Dall's, who gave him a short, encouraging nod. He returned this gesture. He had made his choice. The time for secrets was over. Surely this was the right course of action.

Right?

He took a deep breath, the sooner this was over the more time he had to assess the damage, and rose to his feet. As he pushed towards the campfire a few faces turned to him with curiosity. He situated himself that demanded everyone's attention and cleared his throat.

"Lads, er, folks." His neck and shoulders grew hot under his short cloak. His hand tapped his thigh. All eyes turned to him, awaiting with confusion and curiosity. "Right, well now." Everyone waited, unsure as to where this was going. Gelnen swallowed and stared into the fire, narrowing his vision to ward off the spotlight placed upon him. "So... the barn is full of walkers."

Everyone's mouths dropped open. Their eyes grew wide and glanced about at each other. Some looked puzzled, others incredulous but all threw a myriad of questions through the ever growing silence.

It wasn't until they were standing outside the barn did the focus finally shifted from Gelnen.

Shaan stepped back from the gap between the large wooden doors. Grizzly moans, rasps and growls oozed out of the woodwork. He whirled around and locked onto Rillick.

"You cannot tell me you're okay with this," he said as he bore down on him.

"I am not," said Rillick, "but we are guests here. This is not our land."

"By Torm, friend, this is our lives!"

"Lower your voice, I beg you," Gelnen whispered sharply.

Anderea gestured to the doors. "We cannot simply turn our back on this."

"This isn't right. Not remotely," said Shaan, his growing ire focused on Rillick. "We either go in there, make things as it should be or we take our leave of this place. We have discussed Berdusk for some time." He made to leave as if it has already been decided.

"We cannot go."

He halted and turned. "Why, Rillick?"

"Because my daughter is still out there," said Cralo, her voice hesitant but her eyes true.

There was a long pause as Shaan held his gaze at her. His expression showed apology but still hardened. "I think it's time we ought to consider the possibility..."

"Shaan, we shan't leave Salpha behind." Rillick's voice was quiet, pleading.

Dar's not so much. "I am close to finding the girl." He stalked towards him. "I found clear signs she is out there still two days ago."

Shaan heaved an exasperated, dramatic sigh. "What, pray tell, is this proof you speak of, Dar? A strip of fabric. That is all you found."

He growled, teeth bared. "You know nothing,"

"I say what needs to be said. You get a good lead it's in the first two days."

"Shaan, enough," Rillick snapped.

It only served to increase his volume. "Let me tell you something else, friend. If she were alive out there and saw you coming, hazy-eyed, a hulking beast with glutton ears about your neck, she would run the other direction."

The air exploded in a cacophony of indistinguishing shouts. Rillick threw himself into the fray to quell the situation. Dar, Helm be merciful, simmered his ire but Shaan's was still unabashed. Only a hard shove on the man's chest halted him.

"Back away!" Rillick ordered.

Lorelai had stepped in to help and Shaan aggressively yanked his arm from her grasp. "Keep your hands off me!" he cried.

"If you would let me talk with Herrasil. Let me figure it out," said Rillick.

"Figure what out!?" Shaan shouted.

"If we are to stay, to clear this barn, I must talk him into it. This is his land."

Dall stepped forward and spoke with as calm a voice as he could. "Herrasil sees the undead in there as people. His wife, his stepson, cursed by Tolona, the Mother of Plagues."

Shaan's anger turned to him. "You _knew?_ "

"I talked to Herrasil yesterday."

A mess of shock, bewilderment and fury etched Shaan's face. "And you waited the night?"

"I was convinced we could survive another night and we did," said Dall, then turned to the others. "I awaited this morning to say something but Gelnen wished to be the one."

"The man's a lunatic, Rillick," Shaan yelled, "if Herrasil thinks these things alive or no!"

A loud roar erupted from the barn, a chorus of viscous snarls. The doors buckled and crashed as those within flung themselves towards the sound. Everyone reeled back in terror. In an instant they were shunted into lucidity.

One thing Rillick and Shaan agreed on was that this was a problem that needed their attention.

...

Shaan stood alone facing down the barn. The barn which harboured a large number of walkers. How many he could not say. Hundreds? Thousands? Respect must be given where it is due, the barn was locked tight. Padlock at arm's reach, a sturdy chain lower down and finally a plank of wood fixed by two hooks in a barricade. The question remains, however, how long will it last? He had seen the physical strength the creatures possess, using every part of what the living had without the need to prevent harming oneself. Combine that a hundredfold and it was no longer a matter of 'if'.

He neared the gap in the middle of the doors and pressed one eye against it, peering into the dusty darkness. Vague humanoid shapes shambled about in unorganised fashion, crossing in and out of his view. In such dimness he could not see how many there were. Perhaps he could ask Gelnen. Elves could see better in low-light conditions.

A single clouded eye filled his vision and a viscous rasp pierced his ear. Shaan leapt back and his hand grabbed at the pommel of his sword.

Except there was no sword to grab.

They were not allowed a weapon on this land. Rillick permitted such a basic means to protect oneself all for the sake of easing the mind of a crazy old man who blatantly didn't want them here in the first place. He spat angrily at the building's base. Rillick would be the downfall of everyone if he kept this up.

Last night's rain was light but left a humidity in the air that was hard to ignore. Gelnen's hood was drawn up to his hairline as he navigated the thick crowd of chickens at his feet towards the person he wished to speak to.

"Mage, if you would talk to me."

He staggered after Mage, did not answer his calls. She ducked into the large chicken coop, basket looped around her arm, and gathered up the eggs from their small compartments. Minutes later she exited and swept past him.

"Mage."

At long last she turned, much to Gelnen's surprise. It occurred to him then that his plan was to get her attention but no further than that. He was rendered silent, unsure of what to say.

"Withdraw your hood," said Mage.

He frowned in confusion.

"You said talk to you thus I am talking to you. Withdraw your hood."

Slowly, hesitantly, he lowered it down to his shoulders.

"Stand still."

Mage slipped behind him and he could feel a weight drop into the hood's crevice. It took him a second too late to realise what it was before she flung it back over his head.

 _Splat_. Broken eggshells and gooey yolk mixed into his hair and ran down his face. He peeled the soiled fabric from his head.

"Why would you waste a perfectly good egg?" huffed Gelnen.

"I was quite certain it was rotten." Mage wore an all-too-satisfied smirk.

He unclipped his hood from his cloak and tried to wipe away the mess as a glob of yolk dropped onto his eye. He winced in disgust and removed it; or tried to at least. He looked up at her. "You... want your hood back?"

"Keep it. It takes an age to wash away the smell."

With that she spun on her heel and strutted off leaving Gelnen making a hasty beeline towards the lake.

Ever since the discovery of the walkers in the barn, the campsite was filled with a sense of unease and those that occupied the site would cast a wary eye it's direction. The barn had become a menacing presence at the bottom of the hill they were situated.

Lorelai sat at the fringes at a small table, legs stretched underneath it with Chorrol situated between them. He had before him her poetry book and her quill in his hand, turned to the last pages, where a series of mathematical problems were etched. With no tutors to speak of it fell upon her and Rillick, if he had time, to teach their son. As much as she was loathe to use her book there were no alternatives. Perhaps she ought to ask for some books and charcoal next time one of their's goes abroad.

"Does Shaan think Salpha's dead?" Chorrol's voice cut through Lorelai's thoughts.

"He is merely afraid," she said after some consideration.

"Of the walkers in the barn?"

"Aye."

Silence returned as Chorrol cast his gaze to the book in his lap. "Mother," he spoke quietly, serious and determined, "I will not leave until we find Salpha and I don't want to leave after that."

"We won't leave, Chorrol," said Lorelai, though she didn't fully trust her words. "You finish those equations."

"I think she would like it here, this place. It could be a home."

It was all Lorelai could do to hold back her tears. He was right, this could be a home but only if Herrasil allows it. He won't allow it, though. How could they return to the road and leave behind a paradise as this? It simply cannot happen.

Lorelai wrapped her arms protectively around her son. She would not let it come to that. It will not happen.

...

"You can't."

Cralo stood defiantly at the fringes of the camp, planting herself between Dar and Harley.

"I'm fine," said Dar irritably, then grunted as a sharp pain shot through his side.

"Herrasil said you need to heal."

"I care not." He shoved Cralo aside easily and lumbered towards Harley.

"Well, I do."

Dar stopped.

"Rillick will leave later to follow the trail you left."

He snorted. "Will I tire of sitting on my thumbs doing nothing." He continued again but Harley took tentative steps back, eyeing him warily. "Oh, not you too!"

Cralo hurried to him and blocked his path once again. "So instead you'll go out there and hurt yourself further? We... we don't know if we can find her, Dar. We don't. _I_ don't."

Dar looked down at her, shocked. "What?"

Cralo couldn't bare to keep her gaze on him. "I..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I can't lose you, too."

Soon shock gave way to anger and Dar's breaths grew louder, a guttural sound deep in his throat. He forced it down and shouldered past her. With an enraged growl he slammed his foot into a nearby table, tipping it over. He groaned painfully and braced himself against the upturned table. Cralo ran to him and took his arm.

"Are you okay?"

"Leave me be!" he swatted her arms away and stormed off.

Cralo's hands curled across her chest. His words hurt, perhaps more than they should. Though her heart ached she knew she couldn't fault him for it.

A figure sat on the ground in front of the barn in the distance. Shaan had skulked about there since this morning. Dall tapped anxiously on his spear, the memory of their last exchange burned in his mind.

"Anderea's looking for you."

He tore his gaze away and looked down from his position on the roof of the ox cart. "Thank you, Gelnen."

"I don't suppose we have any spare cloaks?"

"No." He pulled the scarf from his neck and tossed to him.

"Thank you."

Inside, Anderea sat at the back close to the supply crates. On top of the closest one was a quiver fully stocked with arrows. A longbow lay across her knees as she fitted a new string.

Boots on wood alerted her and she looked up. Dall walked slowly towards her.

She stood up and slotted the bow over her shoulders. "I am to accompany Rillick in search of Salpha."

"I thought he went to speak with Herrasil," said Dall.

"He is. We will depart after. I'm off to the barn in the meantime, Shaan wants watch duty down there." She hoped the conviction in her voice would give him pause.

"Does Rillick?"

"Would he not?"

There was a fear that crossed the old man's eyes. His throat jumped visibly as he swallowed. "I don't know what's going on between you and he."

"'He'?"

"Shaan."

"Dall, please," she sighed.

He rose his palms to her. "It is none of my concern. Simply put you may not truly know him."

"We don't need to do this. You and I are finally-"

"This is important," Dall snapped.

"What is it then?"

Dall fell silent. The approach to this argument, the way she ran circles around him, trying to find the right short sentence to fully shut him down, the similarities weren't lost on him. "Is that how you wish to be?" he said, voice slightly shaky. "Like him?"

"He is not a victim."

"You do not know him. Not truly."

"Dall, I need you to stop," Anderea said, her voice hard-lined. She took a step forward and placed a hand on Dall's shoulder. "You have spent much of your time watching over me but you don't need to anymore."

Dall sighed, his conflicting emotions shone in his kind eyes. He shrugged. "You bellyache at me each time I show my concern, so be it. I am done."

"I'm not bellyaching, Dall." She smiled. "I have learned much over the last few days. I'm okay, truly. Things are... different."

Anderea held her smile as long as she could. She needed Dall to believe her. He held her gaze for a long moment and Anderea held onto hope she had pierced through that stubbornness.

"You have your sword," Dall said at last.

Her smile faded in an instant. So close did he become to letting go but it would seem he was adamant.

"I am useless with the thing," she said, defeated, and with that she brushed past him and out the door.

Dall was alone with the storm that was his mind. He stood silent, unmoving as his thoughts tried to catch up with what had transpired. He was done. Things are different. Were they true? Was he done? Were things different? If so, how? Was it for the better?

"Are you well?" Gelnen's voice cut through his thoughts.

He flinched. "Oh, er, aye," he called back. "Say, would you mind fetching me some water? I... need a moment."

"You'll keep watch?"

Anderea seemed different. Maybe she was right but the change was likely Shaan's doing and that did not bode well. Just how much would he influence her? One Shaan was bad enough.

"Dall?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

...

"Enter!"

Rillick stepped tentatively into the estate. The smooth cob walls curved elegantly and opened into the main room where Herrasil sat at the head of the large table in the middle. He ate a plate of potatoes, meat and green vegetables while his other hand held a book across his lap. Round spectacles perched delicately on the bridge of his nose.

He took a deep breath. This was going to need a very delicate touch. He had to approach this carefully. Placing one foot in front of the other he made his way towards the farmer.

"A light read with lunch?" said Rillick.

"With the work that must be done I must get my studies where I can."

Rillick looked around, trying to quell the beating of his heart. "If there is much work we can lead you our hands."

"Tis my field to tend."

There was a commanding finality in the farmer's voice. That approach would not work. Herrasil continued to focus on the book.

"We found the barn," said Rillick.

It felt as though the room darkened with Herrasil's expression. the fork tapped on the plate. The page rustled as it turned.

"Leave it be."

Again, the finality of his voice almost compelled Rillick to walk away but he held strong. He had to. "It is your barn, your farm and your say but I would like to discuss it."

"I don't want to talk about it. I seek no debate."

"No debate, a discussion."

He closed his book and placed it on the table, every movement sucked the air in the room, and turned to face Rillick. His body shifted and though he sat while Rillick stood above him, the farmer's presence was imposing.

"I need you and your party gone by the week." Said Herrasil plainly.

That was the third time he used simple sentences geared to kill a growing argument. It was a tactic Rillick knew well and used to break apart spats back at the barracks. He stood tall and tried to impose his own presence to combat the farmer's.

"I spoke to Dall," he said. "Now, you and I have our differences on how we see the walkers. Those people, they may be undead, they may be cursed, they may be something we can't even begin to fathom but my people, us, we are alive at this moment, at this spot. You send us out there and that may change."

Herrasil turned back around and speared the last bit of potato. "I have given you sanctuary. My conscience is clear."

"This farm is special." Rillick sat on the chair diagonal from him. "It is a shield with which the world cannot touch. Dall says you have seen what has happened but it has been many days since then." Herrasil rose from his chair and made for the kitchen with empty plate in hand. Rillick rose and chased after him. "The world yonder is not as it was before. It is much worse and it changes you, either into one of them or something far less than who you were. I beg you, don't send out there again." Seeing Herrasil's eyes was enough to know what he was about to say next. He spoke before the farmer could say it. "My wife bears a child. That is either a gift here or certain death out there. If we were to stay we could help you with the work, with securing this place. We can survive together."

"Rillick," Herrasil sighed, "I tell you we can't."

"Think about what you're doing."

"I've thought about it."

"Think about..."

"I've thought about it!"

His voice carried through the house and rendered both silent.

"Think about it again," said Rillick at last, frustrated. "We can't go out there."

They stood at arm's length, staring each other down. Neither one would back down but Rillick could see it was futile to persist. The conversation was a failure.

He spun on his heel and stormed out.

Still fuming, Rillick traversed the field and his feet lead him to the barn. The cool air did much to calm his ire but it remained still. As he approached Shaan rose from where he sat on the grass.

"What will it be, friend?" said Shaan once he reached earshot. "Which way will this go?"

"I don't know. Not yet."

"What did he say?"

"We are in negotiations."

"Time grows short, Rillick." He gestured to the barn.

"No it is not, Shaan," said Rillick, irritated. "It is secure. We didn't even know of it until dawn the next day."

"We know of it now," Shaan argued, his voice rising. "We know there are many walkers in there. We know it's a stone's throw from our camp, Rillick, where we sleep. If we do not clear it out then we should just leave."

Rillick's voice rose to match his friend's volume. "We are not clearing it out and we are not leaving."

"We need our arms at least."

"We cannot bear them here."

They circled each other slowly.

"Why do you want to stay here when it's not safe?" said Shaan.

"We can make it safe."

They inched closer.

"How will we do that?"

"We will."

"How will we make it safe!?"

"We will, okay!?"

"No it's not okay!"

"Shaan!" Rillick barked. "Lorelai is pregnant!"

What followed was the buzz of silence, the tension lifted instantly. Shaan took several steps backwards, wide-eyed in shock.

"We need to stay," said Rillick slowly.

Shaan shook his head and looked up at him. "We need our arms."

"No," Rillick shook his head, "I can fix this." The words he spoke were more to himself than Shaan.

Silence again and Shaan stared at the ground wrapped in his thoughts.

"You are well?" Rillick asked.

Shaan looked up and grinned. "Lorelai is having a baby, friend. Congratulations to you."

Rillick smiled back. "I thank you."

They parted ways and Shaan bore his gaze into the back of Rillick, growing smaller each step. Unshed, joyful tears stung the back of his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind who the child belonged to but that knowledge cut him deep. He would not have anything to do with someone of his blood for Lorelai would forbid him.

His hands balled tight and the rage made its appearance, climbing through his veins. His heart quickened, his blood grew hot and everything came into keen focus.

"No," he hissed, and the rage slinked back, its grip loosened and, after a few deep breaths, disappeared.

He looked back to the barn.

...

"Hello, dove."

Mage's skin flinched in surprise at her father's voice. She was so focused on peeling the turnips before her she didn't hear his footsteps.

She did not respond, her mind was such a tangled yarn of emotion and conflicting thoughts she could not find the energy to respond. What she did know was the anger and frustration she felt towards him.

Sensing his daughter's reluctance Herrasil filled a wooden cup with water from the drinking basin. "Chorrol needs no more of my aid."

Mage drove the knife through the naked turnip much more forcefully than necessary. "That is all, then?"

"Rillick made his thoughts known. It will be hard and they must be careful but he was being rather dramatic. His party is strong, they've done well on their own. All they need do is find a farm of their own. There are plenty in the Goldenfields to choose from."

"You are wrong," said Mage. "Every one has been raised or is full of walkers."

Herrasil frowned. "Walkers?" Mage made no move to spare even a glance her way, focusing instead on savaging the vegetables on the chopping board. It dawned on Herrasil then and he sighed. "So we keep these people forever? How are they my responsibility."

"A new command I give unto thee," Mage blurted, cutting him off. "Love thine other as I have loved thee." She looked up at last with a burning gaze to Herrasil's eyes. "That is what you told me, yes?" When Herrasil said nothing, struck dumb by his daughter's outburst, she looked away and the anger melted into sorrow. "I was mad about mother. Mad about you marrying Aunett. I was at fourteen and I was ghastly, to you especially. All I wanted to do was drink and steal but you said to me 'love thine other'. This is what you told me."

"Mage..." Herrasil began hesitantly. "That was different."

She had to suppress a frustrated groan. "Not so. It is you who is different."

"I may be but you are not." Herrasil stepped towards her. "I love you. That truth is part of this. Is this about you and the elven lad? Do you want me to..."

"No!" Mage's eyes were marked with jagged lines of blood as tears began to well within them. "His name is Gelnen. He saved my life yesterday when one of whom you think is cursed tried to kill me. How's that for dramatic." She dropped the knife onto the bench and turned herself to Herrasil. "Things are not as you perceive them. Do not do this. This is not about Gelnen or about me and you." She swept the chopped food into a nearby empty bowl with aggressive finality. "It's about who you are and who you will be."

"Master Herrasil!" The two turned to the new voice. Gimli rushed towards them breathing heavily. "It happened again."

The two exchanged glances and Herrasil hurried out the door with Gimli.

"...Also shows she may have gone south, this way. If Salpha followed the river in that direction she may have left the forest. We follow river Delim..."

"Delimbiyr."

"Thank you, Anderea. Delimbiyr, to the east until we reach Highstar lake, go south from there into the High Moor and double back."

"Rillick!"

Rillick perked up from leaning over a stump covered in maps of the area. "Master Herrasil." He looked down at his sword belt and Anderea's longbow across her shoulders. "We have our arms because we were to look for Salpha."

Herrasil rose his hand. "Before you depart I could use your aid."

"I could help too," said Anderea.

"My thanks but I only need Rillick."

Anderea opened her mouth to respond, his words cutting her deep, but she held her tongue. She was strong, she told herself. There was no need to prove it when there is no need.

Instead, she stood tall. "I'll be at the barn when you're ready."

Herrasil lead Rillick across the fields. Lorelai watched them for a time then turned back to the carrots before her. The knife Pitra lended to her was sharp, a welcome change to what she normally had to work with.

From the corner of her eye she saw Shaan. He was heading straight for her. Lorelai groaned inwardly. She did not want her peace disturbed but it certainly looked like it would.

The sound of his boots on the earth grew louder. Lorelai made a point to ignore the man but it proved ever harder as his presence, his odor, closed around her like a thick cloud of fog.

"I thought he was dead."

Shaan's voice was next to her and she sighed. "Shaan, please-"

"When he came back I wished he was. Not because you wouldn't be mine but because I knew, sooner or later, he would be."

Lorelai rose her head and locked her gaze on him in a glare.

Shaan continued, talking like his words were shards of a broken window on the ground. "See, Rillick, see, he doesn't belong in this world, not as he is now."

"You are wrong," Lorelai snapped. "So very wrong."

"Lorelai, how many times has he saved your life? I wish to know how many because by my count I have saved your life no less than four different occasions and that of Chorrol's too, so I just want to ask you how many times has Rillick saved your life?"

Lorelai stared, mouth agape, in bewilderment and disbelief. What did it matter how many? Her heart was not some trophy for others to win like some game of sport or given freely based on some arbitrary number.

"The night at the camp in Neverwinter Woods," she blurted without thinking.

Shaan laughed mockingly. "No, no, no. See, no. That was me, too. You see, Rillick, he arrived late because he gallivanted off to certain death over nothing. He joined in, true, but see, we wouldn't have been in that situation if he didn't leave because he felt the need to save a criminal who's barely human. So we lost Amee and we lost Ghim. We lost..." He trailed off, gesturing to thin air as though the answer was hidden there. He went quiet and there was a shift in his expression and he looked her square in the eye. "Rillick told me."

An icy chill ran down Lorelai's spine. "Told you what?"

"I know the reason why you didn't. It's because you know it's mine."

That same chill now rendered her frozen solid and her face was numb with pure dread. Soon after, anger grew hot in her face and she turned back to the carrots. "It is Rillick's."

Shaan smiled a confident smile. "We carried on for quiet a while before Rillick returned, Lorelai. It is mine. You know it is."

She shot to her feet with such conviction Shaan took a step back. Lorelai stood tall and stared him down. "You are wrong. I am sorry, Shaan, sincerely I am, but even if it were yours it is not yours nor will it ever be and there is nothing you can do to change that."

Something stirred behind Shaan's eyes. His breaths became heavy and his jaw visibly tightened. He turned and walked away. Surprisingly to Lorelai his steps contained no rigid pattern or heavy strikes on the earth. No sign of anger that was so visible on his face. As he walked he said something that made Lorelai shiver.

"I don't need to."

Lorelai's shoulders slumped in exhaustion and she collapsed onto the log where she sat before and let out a long, shaky breath. Her worst fears had come true. Damn her fool husband, she thought. Has he told everyone in camp now? She wouldn't put it past him. Does he even know what damage he has inflicted? Now that Shaan knew he would be driven ever more to madness.

What a fool she was to bed Shaan. She did so to feel alive again but anyone could've sufficed for that and anyone else would've been preferable to him. Ghim, Dar, Gelnen: A bit young but it is the end of the world, Dall: Opposite problem but same conclusion, Anderea or Cralo: Hells, why not? Even Mrrl at this rate as much as she shuddered at the thought.

Or perhaps she should've had faith in her husband's devotion, to know he would cheat death to return to her. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She never wanted for much in her life. Marry a decent man and have a family, was that so much to ask? Why was that so hard to obtain?

There was nothing to do about it now, only carrots that needed cutting.

A trail marked the tall grass, flattened and trodden under Shaan's boots. He trudged forward aimlessly with one thought shining in his mind like a beacon, a star to eclipse any other. Long ago he planned to leave. Not now, not yet. First, one way or another, Rillick must not be allowed to continue his reign of destruction, of incompetence and folly. No one else can see it, only he alone. He will not let the man continue to ruin everything around him.

One thought drove him now. Every movement, every twitch of his muscle, every beat of his heart. One objective. One mission.

Rillick must die.


	9. Largely Dead Already Part 2

Anger pressed hard on Shaan's chest. His steps were collected but it was merely a facade over the boiling blood under his skin. Eyes transfixed to the path ahead he didn't notice Chorrol until the boy stopped in front of him.

"Hey, Shaan," he said. "Can I talk with you a moment?"

Shaan drew a breath and his ire calmed as he focused on the boy. "Of course."

Chorrol stared at his feet. "I know that... you think Salpha is dead and we should stop looking for her but..." he trailed off, hesitant. "Well, that's..." He looked up and squared his shoulders. "That's bullshit."

"Mind your tongue, young one," Shaan warned.

"We will stay until we find her."

"You think this is what we must do?"

The boy's face showed resolve, no doubts in his mind. "I know that is what we must do."

Shaan thought a moment. "Then... we stay. That means we do what we must to make that happen."

"Like help with the chores?"

Shaan smiled. "Like help with the chores."

"Chorrol," Lorelai called out. "Can you come here a moment?"

"Why don't you see what your mother wants. Go," said Shaan. "Hey, Chorrol?" he called as the boy departed. He turned. "Don't let me hear you say such words again."

...

"Fine day to'okay..."

Gelnen pursed his lips in surprise as Shaan bore past him wearing the most sour expression the elf had seen. Before he knew it Shaan had disappeared through the door of the ox cart below. The cart shook and heavy thuds sounded under him. There was a loud curse and Shaan barreled back outside.

"You see where he went?" he asked.

Gelnen frowned. "Who?"

"Don't you try to shit me, okay?" Shaan sneered.

"What?"

"Dall, Gelnen," he said, exasperated. "Did you see where Dall ran off to?"

"He told me to fetch some water. He said he would cover me on watch."

"And he was gone when you returned?"

"...Yes? Is he well?"

"Aye, he is well," Shaan growled.

"Why would he flee then?"

"So you wouldn't tell me where he disappeared to."

Gelnen stared blankly. "...I don't get it."

"No, my friend, you do not." Shaan turned on his heel and stormed away.

Gelnen stared after him, perplexed as to what just happened.

Deep in the forest the trees swayed in the climbing wind, insects sung and water tumbled in the distance. The crunch of boots on grass, dried leaves and other litter broke the silence between Rillick, Herrasil and Gimli. At long last they reached the river and Herrasil pointed to a patch of deep mud. An undead gnome, buried to her hip, bared her teeth and snarled at their approach. Beside her was another walker, a human.

"That is Lady Lu Brittlebush," said Herrasil, gesturing to the 'cursed' gnome.

"You know her?"

"She had one of those gnomish names. Lu-eye-see something or another. folks just called her Lady Lu. She has a farm north of ours, sweet corn mainly. Worked at the Red Lurch Rambler on weekends."

Rillick watched Lu snarl, gnash her teeth, reach out towards him as she struggled against the bog with no avail.

"Must be hard for a gnome to tend a farm."

"She has magic and plenty of farm hands, including a couple of half-orcs. The human I know not but, judging from the clothing, I'd wager the lumber mill west of here. Been there a few times." He fell quiet, contemplative, then turned to Rillick. "How many have you slain?"

"Too many to count," Rillick replied.

"Can you stop?"

Rillick looked up at the old farmer, suppressing his surprise. He tried to speak but no words came.

Herrasil continued. "There are those that are not of sound mind, those I believe can be restored."

Rillick's brows knitted. "We are still speaking of the walkers?"

"They are victims. Victims of Talona's malevolence. We must wait and trust that Chuntea will strike against her and free those afflicted." He took notice of Rillick's blank stare and waved a dismissive hand between them. "It matters not if you see them thus or simply monsters." He straightened. "If you and your party are to stay, that is how you will treat them." Rillick looked as if he was to protest but Herrasil quickly added, "my farm, my barn, my say."

He extended a hand which held a coil of rope and a metal rod with a leather strap tied to each end. Rillick looked down at the two objects. He knew that no matter how hard he tried he would not see the creatures the way Herrasil saw them. He had witnessed the devastation they caused, seen people die and rise with nothing on their mind but bloodlust. The thought that they were anything other than monsters was farcical.

The farmer's words echoed in his mind. "If you and your party are to stay..."

He took the rope and harness from the farmer. He would do anything for his family, Lorelai, Chorrol, the newborn, to keep them safe. If that meant showing mercy to a walker then so be it.

Every so often, Harley stopped and sniffed the air, a fair distance away from Dar and Cralo, wandering the edge of the High Forest, and continued to trot his way along, scouting the path ahead. The two walked side by side, Cralo following Dar curiously to wherever he lead her. It was strange when, after such a heated exchange before, Dar approached her and asked to follow him. He had asked bluntly but there was a softness in his voice she could not ignore.

At last they stopped. "You see it?" Dar grunted.

They had reached a lake. It was still, not a single ripple disturbed the surface of the water. She gazed ahead to the treeline beyond. "See what?"

Dar lowered onto his heels at the bank. She looked down. A single flower grew from the muddy slant, it's one round petal a brilliant shade of red. An embrium, more beautiful than the one Dar had given her before. The one that had begun to wilt and dry.

She lowered onto her heels and the two sat on the ground and gazed at the flower silently, filled with the distant rumble of the waterfall. Cralo felt the eclipsing presence of the half-orc beside her, it was a good presence. The kind that made her feel safe.

"We will find her," said Dar. Though quiet, his voice carried such conviction and determination.

Dar waited for a response but none came. He looked over to her. She hung her head low, gazing down at the earth. Eventually she looked up at him. Dar searched her eyes trying to find a even a glimpse of hope in the ever darkening depths. The trauma she had suffered at the hands of one close to her, he knew that pain well. How could she not see, Dar thought, the strength she possessed?

He broke the silence with a sigh and he looked out over the lake. "I'm... sorry for my words this morning."

Cralo held her gaze to the side of his face. "You wanted to look for her. Why? Long have I wanted to ask you."

Dar's brows knitted but it was not from anger. "Because I think she is still out there. Simply put," he turned and looked Cralo in the eye, "what else am I to do?"

She stared, shocked, awed. How she wished she had the strength he possessed. Looking into his eyes she felt a dim glow within the darkness inside her like the only candle at midnight. She reached out and held the embrium by the petal, stroking it gently with her thumb. The light grew brighter.

She withdrew her hand and turned to face him. Dar smiled. He found the glimmer he had sought.

"We will find her," said Cralo. "I see it."

...

Early on in Rillick's career as guard captain the Watch was called in to deal with an ogre who was terrorising the farmlands. It wouldn't have been too problematic, it was a slow day so he was able to assign a large force to deal with it. The problem arised when the daughter of the one who called them, a girl of Chorrol's age now, pleaded with them not to kill it. Somehow she convinced her father, the neighboring farmers, the Watch and Rillick that it was 'mean' to do so. They ended up having to subdue and relocate it using ropes and a large wagon.

That was not nearly as difficult as this little walker.

At the very least the ogre reacted appropriately to being bound, pulling and struggling against the ropes that tied around his wrist and ankles. Lady Lu, on the other hand, couldn't care less. Tightening the lasso around her torso, locking her arms to her side, did nothing to deter her mission to take a bite out of him. No thrashing against her binds, only bore down on him with a single purpose.

"How many times did Ortus do this?" said Rillick, trying to hold his balance on one foot while the other buried into Lu's head.

Herrasil and Gimli was not having much ease themselves. Every time they tried to pull on the harness its head turned. "If one wondered onto our land," Herrasil grunted while Gimli shuffled back out of the walker's range as Herrasil pulled hard on the rope to hold it back, "he would bring them to the barn. Now we have to."

"What happens if..." his voice strained with effort, "the barn is full."

Two very unfortunate things happened in rapid succession. First, Herrasil loosened his grip on the rope. Second, Gimli's heel caught the curve of a root and lost his balance. The walker, compelled by it's incapacitated prey, surged forward out of Herrasil's grip and descended onto Gimli.

"Take the strap!" Gimli threw it wildly in Herrasil's direction where it landed on the ground a few feet from him.

Rillick shoved Lu away with his foot and rushed forward, grabbing the harness and a handful of dirt. In one swift movement he looped the leather around the walker's head and pulled the metal part over its mouth. He leapt back and gathered the rope that trailed on the ground and yanked, sending the walker into the dirt.

"Easy. Easy, Rillick!"

Looking over his shoulder he saw Herrasil had managed to subdue Lu and Rillick let out a relieved sigh, only for the walker to get to its feet and run towards him.

"Lead him, Rillick," said Herrasil. "You are the carrot not the stick."

"What?!" Rillick exclaimed. He was not in any way pleased to be referred to as a 'carrot'.

"You heard me. Lead him, you are safe, he cannot bite you."

The walker pressed itself against him and batted its jaw on his shoulder. "You told me Ortus handled them easily." Rillick held it back with his arm in disgust. "This is easy?"

"Easier than some things."

...

Gelnen looked out over the fields from his vantage point on the ox cart and his gaze fell to Mage who walked the path towards the estate. In her hands was a wicker basket filled with freshly plucked vegetables. He took a breath to steel his nerves and climbed to the ground and chased after her. There were things that needed to be said

"Mage," he called. No answer. He bounded closer to her. "Mage. if you would stop for just a moment-"

"You spoke of it," Mage snapped. "You told Dall, fair. I asked of you, told you, one thing only."

"I couldn't do it."

"Father will banish you now. He told me such."

"No, Rillick will figure something out with him. I had to tell them."

"You did not!"

In frustration Gelnen grabbed her by the arm to halt her stride. "I did! I wanted to." She turned and Gelnen pulled the basket from her hands and set it on the ground. "I had forgotten. Forgotten or stopped thinking or perhaps I didn't want to think on it. I let them lower me into that well like it was fun, like it was some game, and yesterday at the potion shop, I realised something. I had forgotten they were dangerous. I don't care if they're cursed, dead, undead, whatever. They are dangerous and I realised something else. I don't want you in danger, ever. I hate to tattle about your father's big secret but I am tired of secrets. Secrets get you killed. I would prefer if you were vexed at me and alive than liking me and dead." He stepped away from her. "That is why I told them."

Gelnen granted himself one more look upon her before he tore his gaze and walked away. He knew in his heavy heart that what he had said needed to be said. Maybe they will not be on speaking terms again, most likely, in fact, but it was better than the...

"Hey, walker bait!"

He froze in place. "Do not call me that," he said, despite the many questions that emerged.

"Okay... Gelnen."

He turned around. Mage glided towards him and she wore not an irate scowl as she did moments before but a grin, warm and almost playful. She stopped in front of him and their eyes locked. Gelnen stood, rooted to the spot, stunned by her sudden change in demeanor. Mage reached up, wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him up towards her.

Their lips collided with the charge of a lightning bolt. Gelnen gasped in surprise and he felt her smile against him. Eventually he relaxed and reciprocated.

They pulled away and their foreheads pressed together. There was something different about the kiss that set it apart. Other times there was a hunger, a longing, frustration, all were purely selfish. This time there was no selfishness. It wasn't for her own gratification, it was for him, for them both, to share between them. It was not of lust, it was...

He reached up, took her gently by the cheekbone and pulled her towards him once more.

...

The roar in the distant waterfall made Dall's bones shiver. He trudged through the forest downstream from the river using his spear as a walking aid, a long pack of the camp's weapons hefted over his shoulder. He turned from the river and hiked a ways up the incline until he reached a small clearing. Once his breaths started to labour he stopped and dropped the pack onto the ground.

He heard the rustle of movement behind him. He spun around, readying his spear in two hands.

"Well well. This is quite the hiding spot."

Dall's face fell and the spear fell limp in his hands. Fear and dread gripped him tightly as Shaan emerged into the clearing. He wore a satisfied smirk, no doubt towards Dall's reaction. "I don't believe we've been around these mountains. What was it called? The Hidden Peaks?"

"Lost Peaks." Dall eyed him warily, suppressing the rising fear he felt. "Imagine if you applied your tracking skill towards finding Salpha."

Shaan looked down at Dall's feet. "How about you give me that bag?"

"I will not be doing that." Dall gulped down the sand in his throat.

"Aye, you will, Dall. Unless..." His eyes shifted down to Dall's hands for a moment. "Well, you do have that spear."

Dall returned the spear to the upright position. "Will you cut me down as you did Ortus? Spin another yarn?"

Something dangerous flashed in Shaan's eyes. He bore his gaze into Dall which rendered him weak at the knees.

Like a predator stalking its cornered prey Shaan stepped forward slowly. "No, my friend. Hells, when you look at it in the cold light of day you are largely dead already." He stopped the distance of Dall's spear. "Hand over the weapons. Do it now."

"You truly think these will keep us safe?"

"Aye, I do. I know it to be so."

"Rillick is trying to-"

"Shut up, Dall," Shaan sighed impatiently. "Shut up and give me the weapons."

With his foot, Dall dragged the pack behind him and kicked it further away. He leveled the tip of his spear towards Shaan's chest. "Must I run you through? Is that what it would take?"

Shaan laughed. It was quiet, mocking the sheer audacity, a laugh that left an unpleasant chill down his spine. Then his expression changed suddenly and he stared at Dall with the coldest stare. He stepped forward into the spear and Dall pulled back, shocked and shaken. Shaan stared at him, slackjawed, eyes devoid of any emotion. It was as though Dall stared through the eyes of a walker, unfeeling and unflinching.

When Shaan spoke it was a barely audible whisper. "Aye. That is what it will take."

Knuckles white, tight around the shaft, Dall withdrew. The tip was painted red. Looking over to Shaan as he picked up the bag Dall could see the tear in his shirt and the blood that trickled from the fresh wound.

"You belong in this world, Shaan," Dall said, his voice haunted.

"Oh? How is that, Dall?" Shaan chirped.

"The world as it is now, this is where you belong." He stepped forward and straightened, a little courage returning to him. "I may not have long to last but that is okay. I can say, at the very least, that when the world went to brace and bit I did not let it take me down with it."

Shaan slung the bag over his shoulder. "Fair." His satisfied smirk only served to anger Dall more.

He left and Dall stared at the blood on the speartip. If only he were more vocal back at Neverwinter about letting Shaan lead. He knew from the start the man was trouble and he knew it could only end badly. He cursed his cowardice. If only he had acted, had more conviction. It would've been so much more simple to strike the man down then and there.

As soon as the thought surfaced he shook his head. No. He said he would not let the world take him down with it and he meant those words. This was his shaken emotions speaking, he would not let himself use violence to solve his problems. He knew that he made the right choice, no matter how much it felt otherwise.

...

"Get your cloak. I'll wash it for you."

"I thought you said it takes an age."

"I may have been exaggerating a tad."

"Does that mean you want it back?"

"No, keep it. We've got plenty. Besides, it suits you."

Mage laughed good-naturedly and Gelnen rose from the steps in front of the estate. On the porch were all the Gerron family bar Herrasil. Chorrol sat on a table with Pitra in an intense game of chess while the others watched with casual interest.

Gelnen did not get far when he saw Anderea, bow affixed to her back, and Ty-Varaz join their cluster.

"Di ya knoo what's aboot?" Ty-Varaz exclaimed.

"Where is everyone?" Anderea asked.

Gelnen frowned quizzically. "You haven't seen Rillick?"

"He left some time ago with Herrasil. We were supposed to leave hours ago."

Anderea looked ahead over Gelnen's shoulder, indicating someone else was to join them. Harley ambled towards them, tongue hanging lazily from his mouth. beyond him was Dar and Cralo, side by side, up the road.

"Aye, you were," Dar replied. "What's that about?"

"Rillick said he would be journeying soon," said Cralo.

Dar snorted and threw his arms up. "Damn you all. Is none of you taking this seriously? We have a blighted trail. Ah. Here we are."

The three of them turned to see Shaan. Over his shoulder was a large bag which contained all the party's weapons and the two spears in his hand. In the other he dragged behind him their shields tied together with rope.

Dar Lumbered towards him. "What's all this then?"

Shaan dropped the bag at his feet and the weapons tumbled out into a pile. He held out the spears to Dar, indicating for him to take one. "Are you with me, my friend?" Dar looked at the spear, to Shaan, then took it from his hand. Shaan addressed everyone else. "Hear me. It is time to grow up." He turned to Anderea. "I see you have your bow."

"Yes, but..." Anderea looked about them. "Where's Dall?"

"He's on his way," said Shaan. Anderea detected an edge to his voice.

"Thought we cannae bear arms," said Ty-Varaz, picking up a sword from the pile.

Shaan yanked the rope and sent the shields onto the pile. "We can and we must. Look here, it was one thing sitting around picking flowers when we thought this place safe but now we know it is not." He bent down and picked up a belt, affixed to which were two swords of different sizes, the standard guardsman loadout, and tied it to his waist. "What of you, my friend?" he said to Gelnen, holding out the one spear to him, "Will you protect yours?"

Gelnen stared hesitantly at the polearm, unsure of what to do. He looked over to Mage, her expression one he expected. Finally, he sighed in defeat and took the spear.

"Good," Shaan said with a smile. "Can you use that?"

"Can you stop?" Not able to stay silent any longer, Mage jumped to her feet and bore towards him. "You do this and father will have you on the road tonight."

"We have to stay, Shaan." Chorrol stood at the top of the steps, his hands clutching the edges of his cloak.

At that moment Lorelai emerged around the corner to investigate the commotion. She stopped when she saw the weapons being handed around. "What's all this?"

"We are going nowhere," said Shaan. "Hear me all! Herrasil, well, he will just have to understand." He lowered himself onto his heels in front of Chorrol. "We need to find Salpha, yes?" He held out a shortsword for the boy to take. "Take this and keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. Take this sword and do this thing."

Before Chorrol could even consider, Lorelai stepped between them with a protective arm across her son. "Rillick said no weapons. This is not your say nor your decision to make."

"By Tyr's right buttock!"

Everyone snapped their heads towards Ty-Varaz's sudden curse and immediately saw what he did. Coming towards them was Rillick, Herrasil, Gimli... and another two. They were bound by ropes and the three were leading them.

"What is that?" Shaan growled, quiet but smoldering. He started towards them and, as they got closer, he saw what the other two were.

He broke into a sprint. The others joined him, either to follow him or to give chase.

"What is that!" he yelled as he tore down the field towards them. "What in the nine hells do you think you're doing!?"

"Back away, Shaan," said Rillick firmly.

"Why do your people bare weapons?" said Herrasil.

Rillick did not know. What had Shaan done in their absence? He would ruin any progress he had made.

"Surely you jest!" Shaan bellowed, gesturing to the walkers. "Do you not see what they hold?"

"I see what I hold!" Herrasil shouted.

Rillick struggled with the agitated gnome in his possession. This situation was getting out of hand fast.

"Shaan, I implore you," Rillick pleaded. "let us do this one task and then we will talk."

Shaan circled the three like a wild, enraged animal. "What is there to talk about, Rillick!" he screamed. "They are monsters, not people, not 'cursed', monsters. Undead! I feel nothing for them for all they do is kill! These monsters right here, they killed Amee. They killed Ortus and they will kill us all!"

"Silence Shaan!" Rillick ordered.

He did. Surprising Rillick, though he was quick to count his blessings. They neared the barn. With all the commotion the walkers thrashed and snarled. Shaan had turned his back to them, breaths heavy and fast from anger and the run.

"Herrasil, my friend, let me ask you." Shaan slowly drew the shortsword from his belt and held the blade gently between his fingers. "Cursed or otherwise, they are alive, yes? Tell me then. Could a living breathing person walk away from this?"

He spun around and hurled the sword towards them. It struck the human in the back and the blade burst out from its chest. The walker roared, not of pain but more that it had become alert, and tried to turn. Herrasil stood still, horrified, and pulled on the rope to prevent the walker from turning. Shaan ran towards them and wrenched the sword from the walker's back.

"That was his heart," Shaan cried. "Could someone alive endure that? Why is it still coming?" He impaled the creature once again, lower this time. "That is its lungs! Why is it still coming?" The man acted as if he was possessed. He stormed around to the front and slammed his sword into the creature's abdomen and pulled, slicing a deep, fatal cut. Its entrails tumbled out of the wound into a messy pile on the ground but it didn't even slow the creature down. "Explain to me that, friend! How is it-"

"That is enough, Shaan!" Rillick ordered again, struggling with Lady Lu.

"That is right, friend," Shaan laughed ruefully. "That is, indeed, enough."

Shaan swung his bloody sword at the creature's head. The top splattered into viscera on impact and its body collapsed onto the bloody mess at its feet.

It was as though the very air went silent as the body fell. Herrasil, Mage, Pitra, Gimli and Bell watched on in horror and Shaan walked forward.

"Hear me!" he bellowed, his voice carried through the fields. "Enough risking our lives for a girl who is gone! Enough living next to a barn full of monsters hellbent on killing us. Enough, Rillick. It is no longer as it was before!" He dropped his shortsword, turned and drew his longsword. It hissed menacingly from its scabbard. "If you lot want to live, if you want to survive, then you have to fight for it." He paced towards the barn door. "Right here! Right now!"

Rillick was holding Lu back with his boot and he knew then what Shaan was set to do. He turned to Herrasil. "Take the rope."

The old farmer didn't move. He stared glassy-eyed into nothing. There was a crack as Shaan struck the large padlock holding the barn doors shut.

"Herrasil. Herrasil, take the rope. Herrasil!"

He did not move, paralyzed by what he had witnessed. He absent-mindedly fingered the medallion around his neck.

"Herrasil, listen to me, I beg you. Take it now."

Another crack and this time the padlock began to weaken. Lu grasped and snapped and snarled into Rillick's heel.

"Herrasil! Shaan, no. Do not do this, brother, I beg you! This is not the way! I beg you!"

But it was too late. With a cry of effort, Shaan swung his sword in two hands with all his might and the lock snapped and fell. He then hoisted the wooden plank off with his shoulder and jogged back.

A chorus of growls emanated from inside and the doors swung open.

"No..." Rillick dropped his head.

Everything he had worked for was for naught. Now, the walkers began to trickle out one by one, then two by two. He muttered something, reluctant. Everyone heard him but not what he said. Rillick repeated himself with a bellow.

"Shield wall!"

The party sprung to action. They rushed forward, stopping side-by-side, their shields linked together with Shaan in the center.

Shaan looked behind him. Rillick had not moved, stuck in place by the gnome he held back. He detached from the formation, paced over to Rillick and beheaded her. Rillick glared at Shaan with a mix of anger and hurt as Shaan quickly returned to his place.

Gelnen, spear in hand, was rooted to the spot. The walkers drew closer and everyone braced themselves. He looked over to Mage. She and her family huddled around Herrasil who was on his knees and staring ahead, griefstricken. His face tightened into guilt and empathetic pain. Although tears poured unabashed and though she sobbed, she nodded to him, understanding. Gelnen rushed into the frey.

Behind the front lines, Cralo, Ty-Varaz and Lorelai readied themselves to cut down any who break through and Gelnen and Dar held the spears over everyone's heads to attack from above. Anderea stood to the side, an arrow pulled back on the string.

"Push forward!" Shaan ordered, and the line moved to engage.

The walkers slammed into them but the line held strong, the force absorbed and distributed along the shields. Swords spun and whirled, cutting into the dead. The spears lunged forward and back, Anderea's arrows found their mark with champion speed and accuracy. With clusters that were too strong, the formation would split and let some through to be cut down by those behind. The group pushed ever forward, closer to the barn doors.

Herrasil looked on in despair as he watched his friends, his family, put to the sword. He could see within the melee that some of them were enjoying themselves. Shaan was not surprising, the half-elf with the bow too, considering how wrapped around Shaan's finger she was. But the person that made his blood cold for this was Rillick. Perhaps the man did not know it himself but it was clear to Herrasil that Rillick harboured the same bloodlust as his comrade.

He looked on, eyes bloodshot, within the arms of his wife, his daughters, his stepson. One thing above all else was clear as people he knew stumbled into their deaths. This was not a fight, it was never a fight.

This was an execution.

Soon enough the battle was over and an eery silence settled over the battleground. The party stood down. Bodies, meat and limbs covered the ground becoming thicker closer to the barn's entrance. Shaan glared at Rillick with rage and contempt. Rillick looked back, angry as well but also pleading, why? Why do this?

He was about to speak this when they heard another moan, a single moan from within the barn. A rasp, quiet, one that would come from a little throat. A sound Rillick had heard once before way back, in the hamlet on the way to Neverwinter. A little girl.

The child stumbled out into the sunlight, head bowed, blonde hair obscuring her face. Bitter dread encroached into his heart and his throat ran dry. Please, Rillick thought to himself, please let it not be so.

The walker was still, swaying on the spot. Slowly, the girl looked up and her hair parted from her face.

A single, earpiercing cry of harrowed pain exploded into the air.

"SALPHA!"

Cralo charged forward but Dar grabbed her by the waist and they collapsed into the grass. Dar pulled her tight against him and Cralo cried loudly, broken, into his chest. Dar's eyes stung with unshed tears.

Rillick couldn't move. He watched, dumbfounded, as the creature that was once Salpha shambled slowly towards him, navigating the maze of its felled brethren.

This was how it ended. The search, the task Rillick had dedicated every waking moment since her absence. The task some in the party nearly died for. All that time, resources, energy, and she was with them all along.

They had failed. He had failed.

His wife was knelt down, holding in her arms their son as he sobbed. He looked over to Cralo, face hidden, Dar holding her tightly against him, cradling her. The Gerrons, wide-eyed in shock, little did they know. Everyone else looked on in dismay, hands over mouths, looking hesitantly over to Cralo. At some point during the battle Dall had reached them and he held the same shocked expression. Even Shaan, vocal as he was about his disapproval on the search, cast his gaze downward in despair.

Rillick turned back to Salpha. Tiny, curious growls escaped from her throat and a wave of conviction came over him. He knew what he had to do. The others may say to not be hard on himself, that he did the best he could given the circumstances, or that he tried where others didn't but, whether that was true mattered little. Salpha's fate was his fault and that was the only truth. Thus, it fell to him to finish the quest, to do what had to be done.

He drew his longsword. The steel scraped against the leather. All eyes fell to him but no one stopped him. He strode forward, past Gelnen, his face ashen, past Cralo and Dar, through the corpses. As he reached her he did not allow himself to hesitate. Salpha looked up and snapped her teeth at him and Rillick swung his sword down.


End file.
